Fractures
by Elizabeth Sullivan
Summary: Modern Day AU Vin is assaulted and this is how he deals with it. Rated for topic and bad words. Nothing graphic.
1. Chapter 1

A hot August Friday afternoon and the street festival was just getting underway. Vin glanced down the long street toward the intersection another block away where rides and arcade games were just starting to hum into life. He muttered to himself under his breath. Having to mow Nettie's lawn today. Not only the hottest day of the year, but the opening day of the Maplewood Avenue Festival. Still, he mowed her lawn every Friday and by God, he'd mow it again today.

Nettie's house was half a block down the street from the corner apartment building Vin lived in. It was an old neighborhood, still decent though, with a mix of races and cultures, and the last weekend of every August since forever was the street festival. This was the first year Vin lived in the neighborhood, the first year he would go to the festival, and he was determined not to miss a minute of it.

Sweating just standing still, he unbuttoned his shirt and dropped it off his shoulders, letting it drag out of the waist of his jeans. He gave a few hard tugs on the rope pull of the old gas mower and it convulsed to life. A few more mutters under his breath at the bad timing of having to mow today, and Vin began to mow her lawn. Nettie came onto the porch after awhile and watched him work. She owned an old house on an old block, and not much lawn came with it. A half dozen laps back and forth and he was nearly done. She walked down to him to get his attention.

_"Don't forget Mrs. Millette's lawn,"_ she shouted over the din. _"I always mow her lawn too."_

Vin nodded and she went back into her house.

_"No you don't," _he said to himself, though. "_I always do..."_

People flocked down the shaded avenue, on their way to the games and food tents. Vin paid them no mind, unless their eyes met and they'd nod and smile a hello. No conversation could be held over the roar of the mower. Twenty minutes tops and he'd finished both lawns. He cut the engine, much to the relief of his ears.

"Hi, Vin," sounded dully over the ringing.

"Hey, Maria..." Vin smiled when he saw her. She was a sweet girl, fourteen maybe, she lived down the hall from him with her parents and little brothers. "Going to the fair?"

"Un hunh..." Her eyes swept the sidewalk in front of her, a slight blush on her features. She wore baggy clothes, jeans and an oversized t-shirt, she usually did, Vin thought to hide the fact that she was growing up. She was such a shy child, he always liked to see how big of a smile he could get out of her.

"Well, you meet me by the ice cream booth in an hour, and I'll buy you a Mexican sundae, okay?"

"Okay..." She smiled up at him sweetly and hugged her small brown paper bag a little closer before heading on to her home.

"Okay." Vin smiled back. He watched her a few more moments, making sure she got to the doorway of the apartment building, before turning back to the task of stowing the old mower back into the even older storage shed in Nettie's backyard. He'd only gotten as far as the picket fence gate strung between the two houses, tugging his shirt back on, when a sharp cry caught his attention.

_"Stop it! Get away from me!"_ It was Maria's voice, in distress, and Vin was down the block in an instant. Maria had fallen, or been pushed, and sat nearly lying flat on the old tile threshold of the apartment building. Three boys stood above her, older teenagers, laughing at the girl and kicking at the contents that had dropped out of her bag - tampons.

"Guess you're a woman now, hunh?" One boy said. The others laughed. "Guess you know what that means..."

"Get away from me!" Maria was close to tears, trying to crawl away backwards, but she was blocked by the closed door. The neck of her t-shirt sagged as though it had been pulled on, and her eyes were wide with panic. Vin didn't recognize the teenagers and he shoved them out of the way as soon as he touched them.

_"Get away from her!"_ he snarled, shoving them away to stand between them and the girl. "_What the hell do you think you're doing?"_ Two of the teenagers were taller than Vin, and the third outweighed him.

"We're just having a little fun - what's it to you?" The tallest of the three snapped back. "Just trying to tell her she's got a little magic going on there, shouldn't hide it from the rest of us..."

_"Shut up!"_ Maria yelled, even closer to crying, bundling the neck of her t-shirt closed with one hand. Without turning around to her, Vin said calmly:

"Maria, get up and go inside. Go to your Mom. Have her call the police. Go on honey, it's all right."

The three boys hooted when he called her 'honey' and Vin stared them down. There were police officers just a block away at the festival. He knew it and they knew it.

"C'mon, let's go," the leader finally said. One of them spat at Vin's feet and flipped him a crude gesture as they walked away. But they left. Maria hadn't moved and Vin finally turned to her, crouching next to her.

"Are you okay? Did they hurt you?"

In answer Maria threw her arms around him, crying now in earnest.

_"They - they - t-t-t-t-ried to t-t-t-t-ouch m-m-m-m-m-e..." _

"Okay, okay, shh honey, it's okay." Vin gathered her into an embrace. "Shh, shh... come on, let's go get your Mom..."

The police came and took a statement, got descriptions and said they'd keep an eye out at the festival for the toughs. Maria took to her room and tearfully insisted she'd never go outside again. Vin promised Maria he'd bring her back ice cream, and told her mother he'd stop by Dr. Hyde's apartment and ask him to come up. The doctor was a few months past retirement but was more than willing to help out wherever necessary, with anyone in the building. With that all accomplished, Vin went back to finally finish putting away Nettie's lawnmower. She was standing on the porch again.

"There you are. I thought you'd abandoned me for fried dough," she teased.

"Naah, Maria had a little problem. Some boys harassing her. I chased them away and got her back to her Mom... poor kid, she hardly knows how to handle _decent_ attention."

"Is she all right?" Nettie was instantly concerned.

"Shook up, I told her I'd bring her ice cream, said she wasn't going to the fair. Maybe tomorrow I can coax her out." He tucked in his shirt as he talked. "She's a good kid, I hate to see her scared like that...well, I'm going to park this baby..." He indicated the lawn mower. "Then I'll take a shower and meet you at the fair. All right?"

"Okay Vin, I'll meet you at the cotton candy."

He grinned at her. "First one's on me."

Vin stopped at Maria's apartment, she was sleeping. Dr. Hyde had checked on her and other than being frightened, she was okay. Vin promised to check back later, to see if she was awake for ice cream, then he headed up the stairs to his own apartment. He stripped off his clothes in his bedroom and pulled on his bathrobe to head to the shower. He felt good. He was worried about Maria but she'd be okay, he'd make sure of it. He'd mowed Nettie's lawn - and Mrs. Millette's. Work was still two blessedly long days away and he was a few scant minutes away from the street festival and cotton candy. He felt good.

The old pipes complainingly offered up the hot water and Vin didn't hear the soft creak of his apartment door being jimmied open and softly closed again.

* * *

When Vin didn't make it to the fair, Nettie figured he'd been called away to work. It happened a lot. Later, after a few hours at the fair, she stopped by Vin's apartment on her way home. She rang the doorbell, but he didn't answer. Working late on his night off. She headed home, reminding herself to call him in the morning and invite him for breakfast.

* * *

Vin heard the doorbell. He knew it meant somebody was trying to get in touch with him, but he couldn't remember what he was supposed to do about it. Huddled in a corner of his bathroom, with his robe on inside out, he waited for the pain and nausea to go away so that he could take another shower and try to pull the fractures of his life back together.

* * *

to be continued


	2. Chapter 2

Little by little, Vin found he could move without igniting the nauseating pain in his guts. Little by little, taking most of his weight on his arms, he pushed and pulled himself to his feet, on the edge of the tub, up the wall, hanging onto the old iron towel bar, until he stood, weak and trembling and scared. He leaned his head back against the outdated wallpaper and tried to control his breathing. Get clean. He had to focus on what he needed to do. _Get clean. Get dressed._ If he let his mind run off on its own, he'd be lost.

Across from him, the little metal medicine chest hung crooked, the mirror giving him only a distorted reflection around the spider web shatter, with hair and blood caught in the edges of broken glass. He held on to the towel bar with one hand, catching himself every ten seconds or so as his legs kept threatening to give out. The other hand held his bathrobe closed. If he let go of the towel bar to tie his robe, he'd fall.

The door to the bathroom was open; fading sunlight still filled the apartment and lit the small bathroom. _Get clean. Get dressed. Lock door. _Panic mobilized Vin's aching body. _...lock door lock door lock door... _

Holding onto walls and kitchen chairs for support, he made his way determinedly, falteringly, desperately out of the bathroom, across the tiny kitchen-dinette and into the front room to the front door. Expecting every second that the door would burst open to admit three ghastly, grinning specters, Vin turned the little lock button on his door knob and slammed the bolt into its unaccustomed place. It still wasn't enough and he turned to get a kitchen chair to wedge under the door knob.

Bloody footprints had trailed him from the bathroom to the door.

Blindly, desperately, Vin made it back to the bathroom in time to retch his lunch into the toilet.

When the sun finally set, he was curled on the floor of the bathroom, eyes shut tight against the blood, pain, and memories, his mind reduced to one thought: _Get clean. Get clean. Get clean._

* * *

_"What?"_ Chris Larabee demanded, sitting behind his desk. "What happened? When did they decide this?" He'd been getting ready to go home at the end of a particularly long day, and didn't appreciate being interrupted by anybody, much less the Assistant to the Dean with disagreeable news.

"Please Mr. Larabee, attempt to contain your ill-humor." Ezra Standish stood in front of the desk, grateful for the distance it kept between him and the irate head of security. "The younger Mr. James was arrested early today for DUI and despite all attempts by his uncle to secure his release, he is and will remain a guest of this county for the foreseeable future."

"So I'm supposed to take over his job?" Larabee was irritated. "What moron decided that heading up Security and heading up Environmental Services is the same thing? What are they trying to do? Save his job until he gets sprung? I don't care if his uncle is one of the biggest contributors to this University; Lucas James is trash and ought to be thrown out permanently."

"Yes, Mr. Larabee, I shall deliver your sentiments to the board on Monday morning. In meantime, I do believe it was the Chairman of said Board, Judge Travis, _your father-in-law_..." he pointed out unnecessarily. "...who requested you specifically for this post. I believe he feels you could amend whatever damage has been done to the department, and the University by the - shall we say, _inconsistent _- leadership Mr. James has given to the Environmental Services Department during his short tenure."

Chris growled down in his throat and Ezra had to steel himself to not take one step further away from the desk.

"You know Mr. Larabee, you aren't being thrown into this duty completely desolate. Mr. Dunne came up through the ranks of Maintenance to Security, did he not? You and Mr. Tanner are close friends as well. Surely they will be able to advise and implement any changes you deem necessary in the interim."

Chris stood up then and Ezra did take that step back.

"You know what bothers me most about this, Standish? You seem to be enjoying yourself way too much telling me about it...you sure it was Travis that suggested me? You sure somebody didn't put a bug in his ear?"

"Gracious, look at the time." Ezra quickly consulted his wrist watch. "And I promised Mother I'd take her to dinner tonight...well, Mr. Larabee, a treat as always..." He reached for his briefcase on the chair next to him and headed for the door.

"_EZRA_." Chris's stern voice caught him just as he was reaching for the knob. He took a breath and turned.

"Yes, Mr. Larabee...?"

Chris turned suddenly agreeable. "Dinner? Tomorrow night, my house? I'll get Vin and JD, maybe Buck. Get this mess sorted out. I don't want to let the Judge down. Don't want the rest of the Board to think having James back is a good thing."

Ezra smiled. "I'll be there."

* * *

Vin watched the dark water swirl down the drain in his bathtub. He didn't know how long he stood under the pounding stream of hot water, washing away the blood and filth. He leaned against the shower wall, feeling the water sting his skin, and the injuries he didn't want to think of._ Get clean. Get dressed. Get help. _That last thought surprised him, then scared him. _No help. Nobody knows. No help._

He shut off the water then reached for the towel on the bar. _Get dressed. No help. Get dressed._ He got dry as fast as he could, then pulled his robe on, right side out, while he still stood in the tub. He looked down at the floor, trying to figure out how to get out of the bathroom without walking through the blood again. Before the sight of it made him gag again, Vin threw the towel down, completely covering the sticky mess.

It was still no easy task to get from the tub, out of the bathroom, and to his bedroom to get dressed. Despite all the hot water, he trembled from the exertion of keeping himself upright when all he wanted to do was collapse on the floor and die there. Using the towel bar, the sink, the wall, he made it to the bathroom door and cracked it open. The rest of the apartment was in relative darkness, except for the light shining in from the lampost across the street, and out the bathroom door. He shut the door again, even as he told himself it was safe. Then he caught his breath, opened the door again, and walked the ten steps or so that took him into his bedroom.

The light switch was the first thing he reached for, even before his feet took him actually into his bedroom. Even though he'd tied the robe shut, he held it closed at his neck with one hand. He limped to his window, closed it and locked it before tugging the curtains shut, then pulled clothes out of his dresser.

He set himself down carefully on the bed. Getting dressed took longer than he wanted. The pain hadn't gone away, but it was at a point that he could bear. But his body didn't want to move and his mind whirled on with a dozen disturbing thoughts. Get dressed. He tried to bring his mind back into focus.

_Get dressed. _

Then what?

_Get help._

**No. **

_Nobody knows._

Vin got dressed, all the way to sneakers on his feet. As he sat there, trying to figure out what to do next, his phone rang. The sound startled him and he waited for the machine to pick up, scared to hear who it might be.

"Hi Vin, it's Maria's Mom. Nettie said she thought you had to go in to work. Just wanted to let you know Maria's better. Her Dad got her to go to the fair a little while ago. We're both real grateful you were watching out for her today. You ever need anything you let us know. Bye."

She hung up and the artificial voice of the machine announced the time. He sat there awhile longer, reliving the moment he'd stepped in to save Maria, and took her back to her Mom. Reliving the moment he'd stepped out of the shower and...

He made it to the bathroom just in time again, only there was nothing to bring up, though his body tried hard enough. He rinsed his mouth then brushed his teeth again, leaving the toothbrush and toothpaste on the sink so he didn't have to touch the medicine chest ever again. He pushed his body back to his room and curled up on the bed. He left the light on.

to be continued


	3. Chapter 3

_Vin felt good. He'd mowed Nettie's lawn and Mrs. Millette's. In a few minutes, he'd be heading down to the festival and cotton candy. He felt good. Then just as he pulled back the shower curtain, the world started spinning and..._

Vin's body jerked awake on the bed, and the sudden movement sent shock waves of pain up and down his spine. Still curled on his side, he clawed at his pillow, gritting his teeth to keep from crying out. The pain went down his legs and arms, all the way down to his fingers and toes, and his heart pounded hard against his ribs.

_Shit shit shit._ The pain made tears come to his eyes and he couldn't catch his breath. The only thing he could do was hold on until the pain peaked then gradually retreated to the middle of his back. When he could move again, he realized he had his face pressed into the pillow, and his breath sounded too much like crying. _shit shit shit._

Finally, he could turn onto his back, but it didn't ease the knife of pain in his spine. What time was it? With the overhead light on, he couldn't see if it was daylight past the curtain at his little bedroom window and he was afraid to turn his head to read his clock radio, afraid it would set off the pain again. So he laid there awhile, desperately listening to the sounds in his apartment, and in the hallway beyond his front door. Quiet. No one moved, or talked, or made any kind of noise he could isolate. The middle of the night. He hadn't meant to fall asleep. He didn't want to sleep. He had to stay awake, had to keep watch. Had to stay awake.

Dawn found Vin sitting at the little table in his dinette. He had his arms folded around his waist, leaning forward, trying to withstand the pain. His forehead almost pressed against the cold formica. What day was it? Did he have to go to work? What was he going to do? What was going to tell people? _Nothing. Nothing happened. I fell. I hit my head. Nobody knows. Nothing happened. Nobody knows._

He couldn't help thinking how alone he really was now. He could never tell anybody. Nobody would want him around anymore if they ever found out. He had to carry this alone. Make up a story._ I fell. I __**did**__ fall. I hit my head. I __**did**__ hit my head._ Anything. Just to keep people close enough away that nobody would ever find out. He had to survive this alone.

So slowly he wasn't even aware that it was happening, his head rested on the table and he cried.

The phone rang and startled Vin - but he knew better than to move in response to it. He let it ring and the machine picked up.

"Morning Vin - or should I call you 'sleepy head'?" It was Nettie on the other end. "It's just past nine, if you're awake, why don't you come over for breakfast? Missed you at the festival last night. Hope they didn't make you stay too late at work. Call me honey. If not breakfast, come on over for lunch...bye."

Vin pulled himself as upright as he could manage and rested his folded arms on the table. He was on his third pot of coffee for the morning. Trying to keep awake. Trying to give himself something to do other than remember. With the windows closed, the air in the apartment was stifling and drinking the coffee only made him hotter. But he drank it. And he didn't open the windows. He stayed at the little table and drank coffee and sweated in his clothes and tried not to move too much so that he could forget for a little while the pain that burned in his guts and mangled his spine.

When the phone rang again, the morning had crept along to almost noon. The coffee was making Vin sick but he couldn't bring himself to eat anything. He expected Nettie's voice again. He didn't want to talk to her. He didn't even want to listen to her. She'd be the first person he'd have to lie to about what happened. He didn't want to talk to her. He didn't want to get near her - he'd only make her dirty too. She wouldn't understand. She was such a tough lady, she wouldn't understand how he let this happen. _Why_ he let it happen. He should've just let them kill him. It would've been so much easier. He'd be dead now and not trying to plan the deception that would be the rest of his life. Just be dead and nothing would matter.

Vin was so far into cataloguing his misery, that Chris's voice on the answering machine took him by surprise.

"Vin – it's me. Got a situation at the school. Need you to come over and help me sort it out. Dinner, four o'clock. But come over anytime you want before that. Mary's out with Billy until later, we could watch a movie or something."

The sound of Chris's voice hit a spot in Vin that could still be made to feel safe. He could tell Chris anything, and Chris would be over in an instant to help him. He didn't have to be alone. Chris wouldn't ask a lot of questions. He would just be there. Ignoring the pain, Vin pushed himself up from the chair and tried to get to the phone before Chris hung up. But he was a fraction of a second too late and he didn't bother picking up the phone and calling Chris back. It seemed like a stupid idea now to tell Chris what happened. But Vin didn't want to be alone and Chris had invited him over 'anytime'. So, moving slowly through the haze of pain, Vin got his keys off the shelf in the kitchen and walked slowly to the front door. His heart pounded hard again, thinking of opening that door and what might be out there. His hands shook as he threw the bolt back and turned the button on the knob. Even more slowly, he turned the knob and opened the door a crack.

Nothing, nobody was in the hall. He shut the door again. Then opened it again. Where was his truck? Around the corner. How fast could he get to it? _As fast as he had to._ The pain in his back transformed into needles of panic that held him in his apartment. Each step through the hallway, out the door, and down the street would be slow death. But he had to leave his apartment. He had to get to his truck. He had to go to Chris's house.

He had to.

to be continued


	4. Chapter 4

Walking out of his apartment and down the stairs was worse than death. The fear turned the pain in Vin's spine into fish hooks that attached him to his front door. He stood there a moment, staring at the door, wondering what they were thinking when they pried the lock and stole into his home, into his life. Did they know then what they were going to do to him? Or did it just occur to them when they found him - -.

His hand closed around his keys hard enough to hurt and his body shook. _It's not my fault. It wasn't like I was planning on them breaking in. It's not my fault. Please God let me just take back yesterday afternoon and you can take whatever else you want..._

He closed the door and locked it then clung to the dark wooden banister that led from his apartment at the top of the stairs and took one step down. His right knee hurt - _everything_ hurt, but the pain in his knee surprised him. He hadn't noticed it before. It hurt to bend his knee to make the stairs, but he did it. One stair at a time, every nerve in his body on alert for any sound, any movement. But no one and nothing stirred and he got to the small lobby without incident.

Opening the front door into the glaring noon day sun, Vin stopped a moment to remember where his truck was. He took a breath of the hot, motionless air. Everything looked different, an unfamiliar shade of familiar colors. Mechanical music fluttered past him from the festival and the streets were deserted. If he could just get to his truck, he'd be safe. If he could just get to his truck and get to Chris's house, he'd be safe.

His feet in his sneakers felt heavy on the hot concrete, and the pain in his body made him walk slower and more stiffly than he wanted to. His truck was around behind the building, not far, but too far to suit him and the fear that sat on his shoulder, whispering lies into his ear that t_hey_ were there, behind every door and window, waiting, watching. And the windows and doors they weren't behind hid the others, the people who would be able to tell just by looking at him that he'd been -

The sound of a gas lawn mower spinning to life startled him, sending the shock waves of pain rippling outward from his spine. He had to stop and rest one hand against the building to wait for it to subside. If anybody saw him now, they'd know. They'd just know. Just from looking at him. Would Chris know? Just from looking at him? Would he have to tell Chris anything or would he just know? Vin couldn't decide if he wanted Chris to ever know or not. Then why the hell was he driving himself to Chris's house?

When the pain eased, Vin straightened up and continued his slow hobble to his truck. He didn't see anyone, and hoped no one saw him. He almost expected his old blue Ford to have been vandalized - by_ them_ - but it sat just as he'd left it yesterday after work. Unlocking and opening the door was easy, getting into the truck was another matter entirely. Every muscle he needed to climb in - and some he'd never been aware were involved in the process - were in agony. He had to pull himself in painfully and slowly, and set himself carefully into the seat. He slammed the door shut and locked it, and relaxed - however minutely - for the first time since - since - -

_Just say it stupid. Just say what it was they did to you. You can't even say it, can you? You can't even say what it was you let them do to you. _

So then he whispered the word, gripping the steering wheel hard in both hands and staring at it till it blurred. He said the word and still couldn't believe that it applied to him. But there was no other word that came close to the pain and fear and humiliation he was smothering in now.

Maybe Chris would know just by looking at him and Vin wouldn't have to say a thing. And either Chris would be so disgusted he'd turn Vin right out of his house, or he'd be so concerned that he'd step right in and take over, giving Vin the chance to finally feel safe.

Either way, he'd know in twenty minutes.

Chris lived in an old house on a few acres of land on the outskirts of the city. Vin drove slow, tense, minding the speed limit exactly, taking the turns cautiously. Everything was still that same strange hue and he didn't want to accidentally run a red light or run down some poor person on their way to the festival. Even so, he nearly went past the driveway and left a few inches of rubber on the black top when he screeched to a stop, belatedly looking in his mirror to see if it was safe. Since no one plowed into him, he guessed it was.

No car or truck sat in the driveway though; he'd come all this way and Chris wasn't home. He had to be back soon though. He'd be expecting Vin to call him back. He had to come home soon.

Vin parked in the driveway. He thought at first that he'd wait in his truck, but people driving past the house could see him - and if they could see him, he knew they could tell. He didn't want anybody looking at him. He opened the truck door and those same shrieking muscles opposed him getting out of the truck. But he swung his legs out and made his body follow, then shut the door and made his way to the deck at the back of the house.

He'd just set himself down, slowly, painfully, on the top step of the deck when Cowboy - Chris and Mary's over-exuberant but ever watchful black lab - roared up to the sliding glass window, barking for all he was worth at the intruder. Vin had been expecting it though and his body didn't react to the sound. He cradled his head in his hands and closed his eyes. Chris was supposed to be home, he was supposed to help Vin, tell him what he was supposed to do now that his life was over.

_Please Chris, come home. Please Chris._ Vin's mind reverberated this. If Chris didn't come back - if Vin was left to sit out here alone and in pain, with an over-energized dog barking at him - he'd just shatter into a million million pieces. He could feel it starting around the edges of his vision and traveling down into his arms and legs and hands and feet. He'd come apart - literally come apart - and the pieces would never fit together exactly the way they'd been.

It seemed to take forever, but after only a few minutes, a vehicle pulled into the driveway and Vin heard Chris call out for him.

"Hey Vin! You around back?" But even if Vin had had the energy to answer him, he couldn't summon the words. "Hey, didn't you hear me?" Chris had followed his own voice into the yard. Then when Vin didn't answer, didn't lift his head, a more anxious question. "Vin - you okay?" Vin felt Chris sit next to him.

_Don't touch me don't touch me don't touch me._ Vin prayed. _If you touch me I'll come all apart and it'll never go back together..._

"Vin?" and Chris _did_ touch him when Vin still didn't answer. He laid his hand gently on the middle of Vin's back. Instead of shattering though, Vin felt himself held together by that touch. He raised his head to look at Chris and was devastated by the look of horror he saw in his friend's face.

_He knows, he can tell, he doesn't want me around..._

"What the hell happened to you?" Chris demanded.

"Nothing." Vin's first spoken word in how long? Twelve hours? Eighteen? His throat was dry and hoarse from throwing up.

"Nothing? Vin you got two black eyes and a busted nose. _What the hell happened?"_

Vin stared at Chris a minute, trying to understand what he was saying. He'd never gotten a good look at his face in the broken mirror, and he'd avoided looking at himself in the truck mirrors. When Vin didn't answer, Chris decided:

"I'm taking you to the hospital."

"Don't wanna go to the hospital," Vin mumbled, turning his head down to cover his mouth with his hand. "Wanna throw up." This took Chris by surprise.

"Right _now?_ "

Vin took his hand away long enough to snap "_ As soon as it's convenient._ " Chris was on his feet in an instant, pulling Vin up by the arm and leading him to the glass sliding doors. The pain of being pulled and having to move made Vin stumble, but Chris's hand kept him on his feet and moving.

"Shut up Cowboy!" Chris shouted to the dog as he unlocked the doors and slammed them open. The lab was quiet but danced around them as Chris tried to gently - but quickly - guide Vin to the downstairs bathroom just off the kitchen. Vin let himself be guided, he kept his eyes closed as much as he could. It seemed to quiet the nausea. But once he was in the little half bath, and Chris raised the lid for him, he lost half of all the coffee he'd had that morning.

Chris stood close by, keeping Cowboy out of the way, actually frightened by the way Vin was throwing up. It came up violently, out his nose, splashing back onto Vin, as though some power greater than just his body's physical reactions had control of it. Vin choked and brought up more, till only bile came up, then nothing came up, and his body kept trying. Finally it stopped, but Vin didn't move off his knees in front of the toilet. He supported himself with both hands on the rim, panting deep short breaths that sounded like whimpers, shaking so hard Chris thought he might be in shock.

"Vin?" Chris crouched down to put his hand on Vin's back again. "I've got to get you to the hospital."

Vin didn't hear Chris. All he knew was that he was in a bathroom, on his knees, being sick, praying the pain would stop, and then _someone_ _touched him_. He swung out blindly at the touch, lost his balance and fell sideways. His back hit the wall and this time it wasn't a knife that went through his spine but an axe. Instead of fists, his fingers splayed backward in pain, and he squeezed his eyes shut and opened his mouth but the air he needed for the scream he wanted to scream wasn't there. The pain just went on and on. Wave after wave, out his spine, down his arms, gradually lesser and lesser until finally he could take that breath of air, dragging the scream in with it.

When he was aware of his surroundings again, he saw that Chris had a grip on his arms, staring at him with a mixture of pure fear and concern. Vin still panted, afraid to move one muscle, tasting the coffee and bile as it burned up his esophagus.

"I'm taking you to the hospital," Chris said again, and Vin dared to shake his head.

"_Take me to Nathan." _

to be continued


	5. Chapter 5

Chris had a very simple plan in mind: put Vin in the truck, drive the truck to the University, get Vin to Nathan's clinic in the Health Building. Three steps, no problem. Vin had a little more complicated plan playing out in his mind: stay upright, don't think about anything that would set off the nausea again, keep one foot moving in front of the other, remember to breathe, don't trip over the dog...

An old house with minimal furniture had never seemed as crowded as it did now that Chris had to maneuver Vin through the kitchen into the dining room across the front hallway and out the front door. The dog danced around their feet.

"Cowboy - get out of the way...Cowboy - we don't need any help..." as arms and legs made contact with tables and chairs and Vin muttered something that Chris didn't hear until finally:

"STOP. _Please._ Chris give me a minute. It hurts..." and Chris practically skidded to a stop.

"Vin - we're almost to the front door." He saw that Vin was letting himself be led along with his eyes closed.

"It hurts." Chris had been guiding Vin with one hand pressing on his back and it _hurt_. He couldn't draw in enough breath to finish a whole sentence. "Just...gimme...a minute..."

"Okay." But Chris wasn't happy about stopping. In spite of the heat outside and inside the house, and the long sleeve shirt Vin was wearing, his skin was cold, his body still trembled with shock and he'd gone deadly pale.

So they stood a few minutes in the doorway between the dining room and the front hallway. Vin kept his eyes closed, shoulders hunched, his breath came short and fast.

"Just a few more steps," Chris urged, trying to not let the impatience sound in his voice. They could be to Nathan's in fifteen minutes if only Vin would keep walking.

All Vin heard was the roar in his ears as the pain rushed through the veins with his blood and penetrated every cell in his body. He put his hands up on either side of his head. How could hitting his back on the edge of the sink hurt that bad? How could hitting his head on the mirror keep hurting so long after it happened? Why were his legs still so weak? Why was he throwing up and why did he suddenly start hearing their voices in his head?

_Hold him down...hit him harder then...keep him still...kick him if you have to..._

Chris could see that Vin was sinking away somewhere, getting lost in the pain. "Vin?" he tried again, more quietly. "What happened to you? How did you get hurt?" He nudged him a little to try and get his attention. "Vin?"

"F-f-fell," the answer finally came, stammered out through the haze of pain. "I f-f-fell gettin' outta the sh-sh-shower."

"Did you hit your head?" The only reason Chris could think of for Vin's severe condition. Vin nodded.

"Hard enough to crack the mirror...hit my back...on the sink..."

"Vin - you've got to go to the hospital - or Nathan's," Chris added when Vin started to object. "But you've got to go NOW. You probably have a concussion, throwing up after whacking your head isn't good. It's just a few more steps out to my truck Vin. Just out the front door and over to the driveway."

"I just...need...a minute." Vin didn't open his eyes. One hand reached out instinctively to hold himself upright on Chris' arm.

"Okay, we'll take our time," Chris said, but he wasn't happy about it. How close was he to a phone? Could he get Nathan to come here? Or Buck? Or somebody to help him?

"It just hurts," Vin said again.

"What hurts Vin?"

"My back, you're pushing on my back and it hurts."

Chris immediately removed his hand and Vin wavered a second, tightening his grip on Chris' arm to stay upright alone.

"It's just a few more steps," Chris tried again. "We've gotta get moving. We've gotta get you medical attention."

"I waited this long, a few more minutes won't matter," Vin said through clenched teeth.

"How long?" Chris asked, worried by the way Vin said it.

"Last night..." Even half disoriented from pain, Vin knew it would be a nightmare if he told Chris that he - _fell_ - nearly twenty hours before.

"Last _night_? Why didn't you call me? You've been like this since last _night?_"

"SSHHHH...makin' my head hurt."

"Sorry...just a few steps and we're outta the house. Okay? You need help. Okay?" Chris insisted.

And finally, Vin nodded. "Okay." His voice was unsteady. "I think I can go now...just don't touch my back..."

"Okay..." Chris took Vin's arm instead and kept him balanced as they crossed the front hallway and went out the front door. When they were on the porch with the door closed behind them, Chris set Vin to lean against the upright railing support. "I'll get the truck, you wait right here."

"Mmm hmmm..." Vin was more than happy to stand still again, eyes closed. He didn't even think about Chris's words _I'll get the truck _until he heard it pulling across the lawn, over the sidewalk, and stopping only inches in front of him. Then the sound of truck doors opening, closing, and opening, and Chris was at his side again.

"Think you can get in by yourself?"

"Drove myself here, reckon I can get in."

But Vin didn't move until Chris laid a gently steadying hand on his shoulder and guided him the final foot to the open door of the truck. He surveyed the situation first; Chris' truck was little higher than his own. He took a deep breath and held it, gritted his teeth, and prayed his legs would support him just long enough to make it up to the bench seat.

One hand on each arm, Chris tried to help Vin - but not too forcefully - into the truck. He could feel Vin's trembling get worse with the exertion of easing his body up and in, and when it was accomplished, they both let out long breaths of relief.

"You okay?" Chris had to ask - eyes still closed, Vin was even more pale, and sweat had broken out his face.

"I'll keep."

Chris closed the door as softly as he could, to keep from jarring Vin, then jumped in the driver's side to make a run to the Health Clinic on St. Michael's campus. He tried to avoid every pothole and blacktop irregularity, still Vin pulled in a sharp breath a time or two on the drive.

Vin finally took a look at himself in the side view mirror. His black eyes made him look like a football player and he turned away fast before he could get any better look. He didn't want to see, he didn't want to think, he didn't want to remember...

Traffic and lights were with them, and the whole trip took fifteen minutes, with Vin pressed against the back of the seat to keep his body and his spine still, and Chris trying to remember to keep his eyes on the road as he kept wanting to gauge Vin's condition by the shades of pale his face was turning.

Summer sessions had ended already, and the Fall semester hadn't started yet so there weren't many other cars on campus. The circular drive that swooped in at the Health Building was still a good forty five feet from the front door of the building so Chris took another path over lawn and sidewalk and stopped his truck a foot away from their destination. '_Rank has its privileges,' _he thought.

Getting Vin out of the truck was a little easier than getting him in and - thank God for small favors - the clinic was on the first floor just inside the entrance. But this time, when Chris put his hand on Vin's arm to guide him in, Vin shrugged him off.

"Don't - _please_ - don't touch me." He wouldn't take a step until Chris had moved a few feet away from him and held the door open into the building. Then he took stiff, shuffling, unsteady steps through the door and into Nathan's clinic.

Chris felt bad for Vin - he was in so much pain he couldn't even stand being touched. Must've pinched a nerve, or thrown his back out when he hit the sink. Ignorant fool, didn't have enough sense to call a friend for help, no matter what time of night he hurt himself. He followed Vin to the clinic, shadowing him from behind, expecting at any second that Vin's legs would give out. But they made it.

St. Michael's was tiny as far as Universities went, but it boasted a world-class health clinic and it passed through Chris' mind with no small amount of irony that the clinic had mostly been paid for with donations by Lucas James' uncle, in an attempt to keep his errant nephew gainfully employed. Right now though, Chris didn't care who paid for the clinic so long as Vin got taken care of - and soon.

Nathan came out from an exam room when he heard someone come into the clinic. His eyes quickly and expertly took in Vin's condition and he immediately recognized a man in shock and slipping away. A few more seconds and Vin would be flat on his face.

"Vin - what the hell? Chris - what happened?"

"F-f-fell." Vin put his hands up and took a step back to keep Nathan from touching him.

"He told me he fell getting out of the shower last night," Chris supplied the rest of the details.

"Must've been a hell of a fall, Vin. Can't do anything by halves, can you?" Nathan could see that Vin was trying to keep a distance, but Nathan didn't want him collapsing. "We need to get you into the exam room..."

"His back hurts him real bad Nathan, said he hit on the sink."

"Okay..." Nathan looked from Vin to Chris and back again. "Can you walk? Just back to the exam room?"

"Try...can try. Just...gimme some room..."

Neither Chris nor Nathan were comfortable giving Vin a lot of room to walk and fall down in. They shadowed him, Nathan in front, Chris behind. Vin was hardly aware of them, as long as they stayed at least two feet away from him. All that was on his mind was that Nathan would give him something for the pain, and please God he'd make it a big enough dose to put him out a good long time. He took his time, afraid of falling, and finally made it to the exam room. He even managed to get himself sitting on the edge of the exam table, but he held himself stiffly against the pain.

"Your back hurt you the worst?" Nathan asked.

"Yeah, goes down my arms and legs if I move the wrong way."

"He was throwin' up too," Chris said.

"Don't remind me," Vin complained. "Been doin' nothin' but throwing up since last night...everything hurts Nathan. Not just my back, _everything_."

"Okay, but let me start there." Vin's shirt was untucked and he pulled it up to have a look. Chris watched Vin for any sign that he was about to topple.

"Hmmm," Nathan made a non-committal sound, looking at Vin's back. "Chris, this is going to take awhile. I'll want to get x-rays of Vin's back just in case, and examine him for anything else he might've cracked when he fell. If you've got something else you can do for awhile...?"

Before he answered, Chris looked at Vin. If Vin gave him any indication that he wanted him to stay, Chris wouldn't move from that spot. But Vin gave no response at all. "Yeah, I've got some policies at my office I have to go over...I'll be back in a little while...okay, Vin?" Giving Vin one more chance to ask him to stay.

"Okay...I'll be here..."

"Thanks Chris," Nathan said. "I'm going to beep Rain, but if you see her jogging out there, let her know what's going on, okay?"

"Sure thing Nathan...Vin, I'll be back in a little while." Just to be sure he understood.

"Okay..."

When Chris left the exam room and shut the door after himself, Nathan lifted Vin's shirt tail again. There across his back, just below his shoulder blades, was a long thin purple bruise, pretty much the right size and shape for the edge of a bathroom sink. Right below that mark, in dark purple relief, Nathan stared at another one bruise - the stark imprint of a boot right across Vin's spine.

"Who did this to you, Vin? And why didn't you tell Chris?"

"I fell," Vin insisted. Nathan dropped the shirt tail and came around to face Vin.

"Vin, you look like you got hit by a truck."

"I fell hard," he tried again. This line of conversation was going somewhere Vin didn't want to be.

_"Vin._" Nathan's voice was stern, and he grabbed one of his hands. "Falling doesn't put a boot heel over your kidneys and it doesn't leave defense wounds on your knuckles." Vin looked down to see scratches and faint bruises on both hands. "Who did this and why are you protecting them? Don't even say it." Nathan snapped when he saw that Vin was going to insist again that he'd only fallen.

The room started to spin, and Vin felt nauseous again though he knew perfectly well that there was nothing left to bring up. He took a couple of sharp inhalations and insisted once again.

_"I fell."_

to be continued


	6. Chapter 6

With Chris gone, Vin felt alone. Nathan was a friend, and had been a few years, but now that Chris was gone, the sensation that he was about to shatter into a million pieces came back hard on Vin. The more Nathan poked and probed, physically and verbally, into his assorted wounds and bruises, the closer Vin felt to that edge that was too sharp to hold onto. Every nerve was a jumping bean, and every word or touch set them off, popping and arcing like live wires, until he had to stop listening, had to stop being there. He wanted to think of someplace he felt safe, the last place he'd felt safe so that he could go there now, emotionally if not physically. Somewhere _this_ hadn't happened.

There was that first time Nettie hugged him. Vin put himself back into that moment when she'd unexpectedly hugged him when she discovered he'd fixed the water pump on her car without being asked. That was a good, warm feeling.

Or there was when he'd gone hiking by himself up Rogers Rock, and came out into a clearing on the side of the mountain that gave him a view of eternity. That felt good, being by himself, in the relative wilderness, with the sun warming him and the breeze cooling him.

But what he found himself feeling safest in was the recent memory of sitting on Chris' deck, and Chris sitting beside him, asking _'are you okay_?' Strange that it was a good memory, and the safest place, coming as it did after being hurt. But it was safe there, and Vin wanted to go there, and leave the rest of himself in the exam room with Nathan. But Nathan's voice kept calling him back.

Nathan couldn't get Vin to admit that he'd been beaten, even though the proof was starkly evident in the bootprint on his back. He got tired of asking Vin what happened. Any question that started with _"Did they...?"_ ended in _"...I fell."_ Still, Nathan worried when Vin stopped saying even that. He'd gotten as far as examining the intricate laceration on the back of Vin's scalp when Vin went dully quiet.

"Vin?" Nathan tried for the second time. "How did you cut your head open?"

"I fell."

Nathan gave in to an exasperated sigh. He came around to look into Vin's face.

"I _KNOW _you fell Vin." He spoke each word separately, deliberately. "How did you fall, what did you fall on that that tore your head open like this?"

_...ha look at the mirror! you left a piece of his head on the mirror scalped him just like an Indian ha! look at him bleed - better get your turn before he bleeds to death..._

"Mirror." Vin breathed out when he saw Nathan getting ready to ask again. "Cracked my head on the mirror over the sink...there was blood everywhere. Couldn't get away from the blood." He held his hands out, like he expected them to still be covered in it. Little pieces were falling off of him, Vin could feel it. He'd begun to quietly shatter, and there'd be no getting the fractures all back together again. "Had to walk through it, got it all over my carpet...don't know how they didn't get it all over them too..." Vin didn't even realized he'd said that.

Nathan didn't pounce on the statement like he wanted to; he just turned and wrote it down exactly in Vin's chart. "All right Vin, you should be lying down. You lost a lot of blood, you're in shock. I can get a look at this laceration when you're lying down."

"Think I'm gonna be sick again Nathan."

"All right Vin, keep the emesis basin next to you, I'll give you something for the nausea. You let me know if this hurts..." He helped Vin lay back, moving him carefully to keep his back straight and out of spasm, then turned him onto his side to give a clear view of the laceration. When Nathan looked up, Rain was in the doorway, dressed in a tank top and jogging pants. She silently motioned that she'd change and be right back. Nathan nodded that he understood.

"Don't want to feel this way anymore...," Vin said. His voice wavered. Couldn't stand feeling this way. Not physically or emotionally.

"It's okay Vin, we'll have you feeling better in no time."

In a few minutes, dressed and in her white lab coat, Rain came into the exam room and read Vin's chart. Her eyes went from Nathan's notes to Vin, who didn't seem to know she was there.

"Nathan, can I consult with you a moment?" she asked. Vin gave no indication that he even heard her.

"Sure...what is it?" Nathan followed her out of the room, out of earshot, but both keeping an eye on Vin.

"You haven't asked him about sexual assault."

"What about it?" Nathan asked. His mind went in a dozen directions trying to make sense of her statement. Vin would never harm another person, why would Rain think this beating had something to do with Vin harming a woman?

"Nathan - read your own notes. Severe beating, multiple attackers, deep bruising and scratches, emotional withdrawal...if a woman came here with these signs, that would be the first question we asked her."

"Yeah but this isn't a woman - this is Vin. He's a man." As though Rain might've forgotten that. She only shot Nathan a look and went back into the room. Nathan had never known Rain to be so far off base. He followed her back to Vin, waiting to have to apologize for Rain's misguided diagnosis. He'd never known her to be so wrong.

This doctor's visit was not going the way Vin wanted. He'd hoped by now to be wrapped deep in the fog of pain killers, and unaware - if only temporarily - of the misery he was in. Instead, Nathan was asking questions Vin didn't want to answer, increasing his pain with every poke and query. The only good thing was that Nathan was so intent on getting Vin to admit he'd been attacked, the real nature of the attack would never occur to him. That was the only good thing so far. Maybe eventually, Vin would admit to getting beat up, and Nathan would be so relieved to finally have it out that he'd stitch up Vin and send him home with a prescription for strong painkillers.

Then Rain walked into Vin's line of vision. She smiled down at him and laid her hand on top of his. "It seems you've had a most disagreeable day." Vin nodded. Rain couldn't be had with just a little information. She'd dig to China if she figured she didn't have the whole story. The shatters and fractures grew, and more little pieces fell away from Vin. He was being broken up and scattered on the waves of pain.

He should've just let them kill him. It would've been less painful than this.

"Vin - there is something I must ask you, then we can proceed with treating you." She hesitated briefly, to make sure Vin was paying attention. "When you were attacked, did they sexually assault you?"

"What?" The word dragged raw out of his throat, Vin hoped he sounded dismayed enough to be believed. But Rain would not be put off.

"Vin - were you raped?"

The words sprang again easily to his mind, but not as easily to his lips. _"I fell,"_ he insisted, for the last time.

"We'll have to do blood tests for venereal disease, and if you have never had a hepatitis shot, I recommend you start the series now," Rain continued, as though Vin had said _yes_. "And while you don't have to decide right now if you want to file a complaint with the police department..." This was getting too much for Vin. The calm efficiency in her voice was drilling holes in his head. "...we should collect as much evidence as we can. Check for semen..."

"They used condoms," Vin blurted. There it was, on the table, and no taking it back. He stared up at her, heard the sharp breath from Nathan behind him. Funny how, now that he'd admitted it, he didn't feel so nauseous. His mouth had gone dry and all he wanted was to be sitting back on Chris and Mary's deck, that first moment when Larabee had sat down beside him and easily touched him - _You okay?_ That moment of friendship and concern would never come back, Vin knew. He'd be an outcast, now that all the little pieces of who he was, who he used to be, had fractured and fallen away. All that was left now was filth and shame.

But Rain continued to touch him, lifting her hand off his to lay it firmly on his shoulder.

"Vin -" she leaned down closer to him. " There is much damage they might have done. Will you let us do what we have to, in order to treat you properly?"

Then the nausea came back and Vin swallowed it down, trying to nod over the lump it left in his throat.

"Okay," he finally agreed.

to be continued


	7. Chapter 7

It seemed to Vin that the few hours it took Nathan and Rain to patch him up went by in a shrill of pain, humiliation, and prayer. Finally shedding his clothes for the inexact safety of an exam gown was bad enough, even done in relative privacy behind a hospital screen, and Rain kept up a consistent line of communication - what they were going to do, why it needed to be done, it wouldn't hurt, let them know if it did hurt - but the nakedness of his vulnerability went way beyond the literalness of exposed skin. He should've gone somewhere else, he told himself. Nathan and Rain were friends, but that just made it worse. Vin knew they'd never tell his secret, but he'd never be able to face them again, knowing that they knew, remembering all they had to do to him.

Sending his mind and soul to his safe place became impossible through the long moments of revelation and agony, x-rays, blood work, and IV. Vin gritted his teeth and held on, answering minimally, keeping his eyes shut. All that kept him from crying out and fighting against his doctors, his friends, was thinking that the faster they could work, the sooner it would be over, the sooner Chris would be there again - _You okay?_ - unknowingly helping Vin keep his fractured being whole.

/*/*/*/*/*/*

Finally the blessed words from Nathan: "Okay Vin, we're done here. You just rest, we want to keep an eye on you for a little while, till the IV is done and we're sure you're out of the dehydration."

Vin nodded. Turned on his side, covered under two thermal blankets, his eyes were open, but he couldn't - wouldn't - look at Nathan. He kept his eyes firmly on the rail of the exam table pulled up to keep him safe. Nathan reached out to touch him, to reassure him, but after the prolonged, intimate contact of the exam and treatment, it was too much for Vin and he squirmed his shoulder to get away from it.

Nathan couldn't blame Vin, he was still in shock. They both were, in shock over what had happened to him. He doubted that Vin would ever let anyone touch him again.

"The call light is here Vin, right next to your hand. You buzz us if you need anything, OK?" Another vacant nod. "One of us will be back in a little while to check on you."

Nathan left the little room and shut the door behind him. Rain was another room, going over Vin's x-rays.

"How's he look?" he asked.

"Well, his nose isn't broken," Rain answered without taking her eyes off the dozen x-rays on the light panel in front of her. "Hairline fractures in two ribs, and a suspicious shadow on one of his vertebrae..."

"How did you guess what happened to him?" Nathan had to ask.

"I didn't _'guess'_ - remember I did my residency in New York City. If it was a crime, I saw the victim of it...do you think that looks like a fracture? Here..." she pointed to a vertebrae on the film in front of her.

"I can't believe you're taking it so calmly. That man's whole life has been destroyed."

Rain turned to look at Nathan like he'd suddenly renounced the Hippocratic Oath.

"Nathan, I know it's a terrible thing to survive, but he will survive. He has survived and now he must recuperate. It's not the end of the world."

*/*/*/*/*/*

Vin knew that his life was over. Laying on the exam table, all alone, he knew that everything that had been true about his life before was over and he'd have to start again, trying to build a new life with new truths and new expectations. He could forget about ever having a wife and a family, forget about the friends and relationships he had now. Everything was over. He was alone, and if he curled up and died right now, it wouldn't matter. Nothing mattered anymore.

Then the door to the exam room opened and Chris walked in.

"You okay?" He came right up to Vin. "I didn't think they were ever going to let me back in here."

The sudden relief that Chris was back, and in the same room, talking to him, and obviously concerned about him almost overwhelmed Vin. He coughed once or twice, to hide that he didn't trust his voice.

"Guess I'll live."

"They take care of you? Neither of 'em will tell me what's going on. Kept spouting _'confidentiality'_ at me."

"Yeah, they took care of me." Vin's mind recoiled at the thought of what that had entailed. "Said I was dehydrated from throwin' up, gotta wait for the IV to be done. They finally gave me painkillers for my back, took about a billion x-rays. Didn't think they were gonna run outta tests to do on me."

Life was a little less dismal with Chris nearby.

"Yeah, they did tell me you'd be here at least another hour. I called Mary, had her bump dinner back a couple hours...what else?"

"Nothin'." _Did Chris have any idea? _

"What about hitting your head? You got a concussion?"

"A little one they think...they stitched up the cut I got on my head hitting the mirror. They're looking at all my x-rays now, seeing what else I mighta busted up. They think maybe a coupla ribs."

Chris shook his head. "You got all this damage, just from falling in your bathroom?" His voice conveyed that he believed the story, that somehow only Vin could incur so much damage from something as slight as falling in a bathroom.

"Reckon I musta bounced," Vin offered.

"Yeah, I reckon...Nathan says you gotta rest awhile, it bother you if I sit in here with you and get some reading done?"

"Naah, that'd be fine..." At least one prayer answered. It gave Vin the impetus to ask: "What's up at school anyway? You didn't say in your message."

Chris was turned around, pulling the chair into a good spot when Vin said that. He turned back.

"You got that message?"

"Yeah...that's why I was coming to your house...'cause you said you needed help..." Sort of a lie, not one hundred percent.

"You nearly kill yourself and you drove all the way to my house because I asked you to?" This too Chris believed, but it dismayed him.

"You said you needed help." Vin's voice was soft and earnest. He dropped his eyes and poked a little bit around the IV plug in the back of his hand. "Didn't figure I was this bad off..."

"Well..." Chris left the chair alone and came back to Vin. "Lucas James was arrested yesterday morning."

"Another prayer answered," Vin said.

"What?"

"Nothing - what'd they get him for?" It felt weird, but somehow comforting, to be talking about normal things with Chris.

"DUI, heroin or cocaine, something. Ezra was telling me -"

"Which means you weren't exactly paying attention," Vin said. He thought it must be the pain killers finally kicking that was making him relaxed enough to joke.

Chris shook his head. "I tell you, I paid pretty damn close attention once Ezra told me I'm supposed to run my department AND environmental services, till the Board figures out how to handle this."

"I bet - they wouldn't mind dumping Lucas, just can't stand to lose his Uncle's money..."

Chris looked him over before answering.

"You're tired Vin...you should rest. We can talk about it later."

He patted Vin's shoulder lightly, and Vin steeled himself not to flinch. But it wasn't as bad as Nathan or Rain touching him. The feel of Chris' hand briefly, lightly touching him through the thermal blankets didn't make him cringe inside and wish he was anywhere else.

"Okay," Vin agreed.

Chris brought his briefcase in from the hallway and shut the door. He sat in the chair near the exam table and pulled out a binder of policies and procedures to go over. Vin shut his eyes and tried to put himself back on Rogers Rock, or Chris' deck, or anywhere that wasn't here. Even so, the part of his brain that still functioned reasonably well sifted through the problem at school.

"Should talk to Gloria," He said after awhile. "Mrs. Potter. She's in charge of Housekeeping. She was anyway, till Lucas took over. Turned her position pretty much into a glorified secretary. She does all the time cards and scheduling, for all three departments. She'd be an awful lotta help."

"Okay, I'll do that." Chris made a note to himself. He was glad that Vin felt well enough to talk. The way he'd been looking all day, Chris was surprised he was still conscious. They went back to resting and reading. A few minutes later, Chris'cell phone rang; he grabbed it out of his briefcase.

"Hello?"

"Chris! Is Vin with you?"

"Nettie? How'd you know where we are?" Chris saw Vin's eyes fly open at the mention of her name.

"I called Mary." Nettie sounded uncharacteristically upset. "I was expecting to hear from Vin today, and when I didn't - - well, I just - - is there with you? Mary said you took him to Nathan...is he all right? Can I talk to him?"

"Well, he's resting now Nettie, I'll see if he's up to a conversation..." Chris' eyes posed the question, and Vin took a while answering. Finally he nodded and his hand shook as he held it out for the phone.

The moment had come when Vin had to talk to Nettie. Explain where he'd been last night, and this morning, where he was now and why. More prayers were sent up as swift as they could go as he took a breath.

"Hi Nettie..."

"Honey, are you all right?"

"I'm okay, a little banged up. I fell..."

"_Fell_?" Nettie sounded clearly confused.

"Yeah, last night, when I was takin' a shower. I fell gettin' outta the tub, don't know how." Vin didn't know if he should be pleased or not that the lie was coming out so smoothly. "Cracked my head something fierce on the mirror. Bleedin' like crazy all over the place."

"You should've called me, honey." But her voice still carried a trace of that confusion. "I thought maybe you got called into work last night, but when I still didn't hear from you by this afternoon, I didn't know what to think. Maria's mother told me she hadn't seen you - -"

"You didn't go into my apartment, did you?" Vin all but demanded. There came an icy silence on the other end of the phone before Nettie answered stiffly.

"No. I didn't go into your apartment."

Vin regretted his tone. "I'm sorry Nettie - - I didn't mean anything. I just been havin' problems with the lock on the front door. Don't catch if you don't shut it just right. Sometimes."

"No, honey, it's all right. I was just worried about you." The confusion was gone. Now her voice carried only concern. "I didn't mean to upset you...will you be coming home after Nathan's?"

"Don't know. Might...," he hesitated to say it, because they hadn't talked about it. "...might go to Chris' for the night...not too steady on my feet just yet." Vin was relieved when Chris looked up from his binder long enough to nod his agreement with that idea.

"All right, honey. I'll let you go then. You call me from Chris's if you need anything. Let me know how you're doing."

"I will Nettie." Vin breathed in relief that Nettie had bought the lie so easily. They said goodbye and Vin handed the phone back.

*/*/*/*/*

Nettie hung up the phone and looked around the little apartment. Vin was never the world's best housekeeper, but this was beyond even his clutter. Books pushed off shelves, mail torn open and scattered, CD's jumbled and laying loose on the floor.

And that mess in the bathroom.

She took one more look in there, kicking the towel back over the blood where she'd pulled it up like sticky tape, and pushing the wastepaper basket and its mute evidence back into place. Vin was lying to her and she figured she knew why. He was safe as long as he was with Larabee, and she could keep tabs on him.

With one more look around, Nettie left Vin's apartment and went back to her home.


	8. Chapter 8

Chris tried to pay attention to two things at once, but now that Vin was taken care of and resting quietly, waiting for the IV to finish, he couldn't keep his thoughts off the problem at work. Getting nowhere in Environmental Services Policies and Procedures, he put the binder away and took out the computer printout of budget and expenditures.

He glanced at his friend every once in awhile. Sometimes Vin's eyes were closed, sometimes they were open, staring at something Chris couldn't see. The last few times he looked, Vin's eyes were closed, and Chris concentrated on the sheets in his lap. Numbers didn't add up and too much money was going out of petty cash...month to month the amount budgeted for kept changing...purchases that should've been passed by the board but obviously weren't littered the green and white lined sheets.

_"What the - this doesn't make any sense - how could he -" _

"I think the word you're looking for is _'embezzlement'_," Vin said without turning his head up to look at Chris.

"You knew about this?" Chris was surprised that he'd keep it to himself. Vin shrugged.

"Gloria told me about it. At first she thought a mistake'd been made is all. When she told Lucas about it, he threatened her job and her pension. She's a widow, got a coupla kids to raise. I told her to hold on, told her it'd come out in the wash. Maybe now it will."

"You should've told me - you should've told _somebody_."

"Didn't want Gloria gettin' into trouble...Lucas has got a lotta money behind him. No telling what trouble he'd cause...she's got kids to raise," Vin said again.

Chris was about to repeat that Vin should've told somebody, but he knew Vin - forever looking out for other people. If it'd been his own job, Vin wouldn't hesitate to blow Lucas in. Anybody else - he'd bide his time.

"Well, I think we can get him now."

"Hope so...he's been hard on Gloria...making her life hell..." Vin picked at the top blanket. "Ain't too nice to a lot of the workers, either...'specially the ones who won't fight back."

"What about you?" Chris asked. If James ever guessed that Vin could be threatened with other people's jobs, he'd have a field day.

"I got other things to think about now." His voice was flat and it brought Chris back to where they were and why. When Chris didn't answer right away, fear flared up in Vin that maybe Chris was piecing things together so he added lightly: "Guess I got a better boss now, hunh? Maybe he'll see clear to give me light duty?"

"Sure, light duty..." Chris squinted a little; something wasn't making sense. Vin was going from spiritless to teasing in a blink and that wasn't like him. As the wheels began to turn, the door opened and Rain came in. She carried an x-ray in her hand.

"How are you doing Vin?"

"Better I guess...when can I get outta here?"

"Soon, there are just a few things we need to discuss."

Vin's eyes went from Rain to Chris and back again. "Can Chris stay?" and Rain knew what he was asking - _are you going to talk about the attack? If not, Chris can stay._

"Chris can stay for this -" She held the x-ray of his spine up to the light and pointed to the vertebrae. "See this - this line here - you have a crack there."

"What's that mean?"

Rain dropped the x-ray down to her side. "It means you have a fractured spine."

A moment's disbelief. "Am I gonna be able to walk?" Vin's mind immediately focused on whether he still had feeling in his legs.

"Oh yes, this is nothing serious," Rain hastened to reassure him. "But it's why you're having so much pain in your back."

"But - will I need traction or a cast or a wheelchair or what?" Fractured spine. A dozen horrifying visions sprang up.

"No Vin, don't worry, you won't even need a brace. You'll just have to take it easy. No lifting, no driving heavy equipment, no flexing or arching your back..."

"That's my whole damn job description," Vin complained. Rain shrugged.

"It's not serious, but you have to let it heal. If you want to avoid the severe pain you're having, you have to take it easy."

Vin grumbled something down into the blanket. "When can I get outta here?"

"Soon...the IV is almost -"

"Not soon, NOW."

Chris watched the exchange. Vin could be assertive when he needed to be, but this was something stronger - fear, aggravation, distress.

"I want my clothes."

"Vin - it shouldn't be more than another fifteen minutes." Rain kept her voice calm, she wasn't expecting this much trouble. "Then we can see how you're feeling."

_"Where are my clothes?_" Vin demanded. "_And if you don't take this IV out, I will._"

Rain controlled her breathing, and decided against giving it one more try.

"Your clothes are under the table Vin. I'll take the IV out, and we need to discuss a few more things so I'm going to ask Chris to leave, all right?"

Vin looked at Chris and knew that he wasn't about to be moved unless he had Vin's say-so.

"Okay...Chris? You wait outside till we're done? Drive me home?"

"Yeah Vin, I'll be out in the waiting room."

*/*/*/*/*

The ride back was a lot less painful for Vin than the ride coming in had been. Chris was just as careful about potholes and speed bumps and the painkillers had kicked in nicely. He closed his eyes and felt himself drift off. He didn't open his eyes again till he heard the mechanical music of the fair, and he came awake with a start. Chris had parked behind his apartment building.

"What are we doing here?" Vin's distress sounded in his voice. He didn't want to come back here. Not yet. _They_ could be anywhere.

"Figured you could get a change of clothes, whatever you need to stay at my place...I can go get 'em for you, if you don't think you can make the climb."

"No - I'll go. I can do it."

*/*/*/*

It was a slow walk into the apartment building and up the stairs. Vin prayed that Chris would stay in the front room, and not go anywhere near the bathroom. If he got one look at the carnage, the game would be up. As they neared the top of the staircase, Vin pulled his keys out. Suddenly, Chris pushed past him, blocking his way to the door.

_"Hold on_," Chris said. His voice was deep, serious. "Your lock's been tampered with."

"It's okay, it's been like that awhile." _Like twenty four hours._ Leave it to Chris to see a few gouges on the door frame. Vin unlocked the door and went in. It seemed like months since he'd been here, though it'd been less than five hours.

"Vin -" Chris surveyed the scene. "Someone's been in here." Vin looked around, seeing the destruction for the first time. His shoulders sagged and he let out a breath.

"I know." Defeated, he walked to his kitchen table and sat in the closest chair. He tossed his keys down and rested his head in his hands. It was over now. "Just go on home Chris. I'll come get my truck...when I can..." His voice shook, it wasn't going to take much to send him over the edge. "Just leave me alone."

This was getting stranger by the minute for Chris. Someone had obviously ransacked Vin's apartment, and Vin acted like he didn't care, or didn't have the energy to care. He looked around again, looked down, and saw the browning blood stains on the carpet, followed them back to the bathroom and pushed the door open.

*/*/*/*

When Chris opened the bathroom door, Vin waited for the explosion. But all he could hear was the roar of blood in his ears, as panic overwhelmed him. Never should've let Chris come in. He'd see, he'd know, he'd want nothing more to do with Vin. He'd walk out the door and Vin would never see him again. How would he ever get his truck back? How would he ever get his life back? He couldn't work with a fractured vertebrae, he was afraid to stay in the apartment alone, afraid they'd come back, afraid he'd get sick again and fall and that the pain would go on and on.

_God please - take anything else you want. Just let me have yesterday back. _

*/*/*/*

Chris's first impulse was to gag for the blood splashed everywhere, the bloody hand prints smeared down the wall, the hair and blood imbedded in the shattered mirror, the footprint shaped stains of blood that had seeped through the towel on the floor. Vin had lost a hell of a lot of blood out of that cut on his head.

Then Chris saw it, on the wall, two hand prints, one distinctly bigger than the other. At least two people had been in here. He turned back, intending to demand the truth from Vin, but the words died on his lips when he saw him, sitting at the kitchen table. Chris knew Vin to be a strong man, able to keep his head and see his way through any difficulty or disaster that life or work threw at him. But the man with Chris now didn't seem strong at all. Vin cradled his head in his hands, with his hands turned so that they shielded his eyes. His breath came fast.

He was crying.

*/*/*/*

Vin had no idea what was going on around him. He tried to control his emotions but the pain was too deep. Lord, how long was he going to feel this way? How long would he keep fracturing until he broke apart completely? Why wasn't Chris saying anything? Why was he just walking around? Why didn't he just leave and leave Vin in his misery?_ God, why did this happen to me? _

A hand on his shoulder startled Vin. He looked up, and quickly looked back down. Chris stood next to him, with Vin's back pack in his hand. "You ready?" Chris asked, casually. "I packed some clothes for you..." Vin didn't move at first, didn't _want_ to move. Chris urged him again, still casually, as though Vin was merely dawdling. "Mary'll have dinner started, she'll be looking for us..."

So Vin stood up and followed Chris out of the apartment. He didn't try to figure out what was going through Chris's mind. He shut his front door and locked it, and numbly followed Chris to his truck. He started to pull himself into the cab, and felt it again, a hand touching him, Chris quietly helping him in.

"You okay?" Chris asked as he shut the truck door. Now the words didn't sound as comforting as they had before.

"Yeah." Vin didn't look at him, and as Chris made his way around to the driver's side, Vin hastily scrubbed his eyes dry and raw.

"We'll get you safe and sound in a few minutes," Chris said and started the truck. Neither of them said anything else on the short trip home.

to be continued


	9. Chapter 9

Vin's mind shut down during the brief ride to Chris's house. He hugged his old canvas backpack to himself and stared at the dashboard. Something heavy settled on his brain, leaving no room for thought, feeling, or questions. The pain still got through, though. The seatbelt aggravated the cracked ribs Rain said he had, the occasional bump in the blacktop twinged his back. Everything else was fog.

When the truck's engine cut off, Vin pulled himself up out of the fog. Where were they? They weren't back at his apartment building, were they? He was confused by the view out the windshield - familiar but not customary. Even seeing how close they were to the house didn't explain things for him. The passenger door opened and Chris was standing there.

"Come on inside," Chris said. His tone was casual, inviting, and he held out his hand. Vin ran this all through his brain a time or two. Still it didn't make sense. The truck had stopped. They were at Chris's house. Chris was waiting for something. What was Chris waiting for?

"The other's will be here soon, Vin. You'll want to get inside before then."

Get inside. That was it. Vin undid the seatbelt, letting it slide back into place, then inched his body off the seat. Chris stepped closer and took his arm to help him down. Once his feet were on the ground and he felt like he'd stay upright on his own, he pulled away from Chris. _Too close. Standing too close._ When Chris stepped back, Vin pushed himself toward the house. He didn't hear Chris shut the truck door, and only sensed him walking ahead to open the front door.

The slight weight of the back pack comforted Vin as something to hold onto. Clean clothes inside. The promise of something clean kept the thoughts of filth and shame at bay. Clean. He could be clean again. His clothes were dirty, he was dirty. If he could just get clean again...

Once inside the house, in the front hallway that opened on three sides to dining room, family room, and the stairs that led upstairs, Vin stopped. Here his train of thought stopped. He was supposed to go into the house, and he had. Now what? Maybe if he wasn't so tired, he'd be able to think what to do.

"You want to go upstairs and change? Maybe lay down for awhile?" Chris asked. Why did the casualness of his voice seem so out of place?

"Take a shower?" Vin asked. The words came out on their own, he hadn't even thought them.

"Sure, come on. I'll check, make sure there's clean towels."

That word again, _clean_. He'd be okay if he could get clean. As automatically as before, Vin followed Chris up the stairs. He heard a woman's voice behind him.

"Chris - is that you?"

"Yeah - be down in a minute, Mary..."

The bathroom was long and narrow, with a mirror that ran the length of the double sink counter top. Chris pulled three towels out of the little closet and laid them next to one of the sinks.

"Leave your clothes here in the hamper Vin, I'll throw 'em in the wash for you."

What that process would entail ran through Vin's mind and he shook his head. There'd be blood. Chris would know. But Chris said again:

"You leave 'em here, Vin. I'll take care of it."

What did that mean? Why was the world so fuzzy? Every sight and sound and touch seemed too sharp, too clear. If the words were so clear, why was the meaning so fuzzy? Still, Vin nodded. Leave his clothes in the hamper. Okay. What else was he supposed to do? He looked up at Chris, puzzled.

"You take a shower Vin, it's been a hot day, it'll make you feel better. Change into your clean clothes and leave the other ones here in the hamper, okay?"

Okay.

Apparently, he hadn't said it out loud because Chris asked again: "_Okay_?"

"Okay." Was that his voice? What was going on? "Don't feel just right Chris."

"It's okay. I think maybe Nathan gave you too strong a dose of painkillers. You take a shower, change your clothes and get some rest. You'll feel better...okay?"

Vin had to prod himself to remember to answer out loud. "Okay."

"I'll check back on you when I hear the water turn off, okay?"

"Okay."

Chris stood a moment longer, and Vin wondered if he was supposed to say something else? Was there a step he'd missed?

"If I don't hear the water turn _on_ in a little while, I'll check back too."

"Okay." _Turn on the water, take a shower, turn off the water, put on clean clothes, leave dirty clothes in the hamper_. "Okay."

*/*/*/*

When Vin set the back pack on the sink and started pulling out his clothes, Chris left the bathroom and shut the door. Mary met him at the bottom of the stairs.

"How is he?"

"A little strung out on painkillers I think...he's taking a shower now. He'll be better when he eats something, gets some rest...I gotta move the truck. I'll be back."

Outside the house, alone in the truck, Chris finally let himself exhale the troubled breath he'd been holding since seeing those handprints in Vin's bathroom. _Lord, help me know how to help him_. He parked the truck in the driveway and went back in the house. Standing at the foot of the stairs, he heard the water running upstairs.

Billy ran into the hallway with Cowboy close on his heels.

"Hi Dad! Where were you?"

"Hey Bud...Vin got hurt, had to take him to see Nathan." He ruffled Billy's hair and took a long look at him.

"Is he gonna be okay?"

"Yeah, he's taking a shower...Buck and JD and Ezra are coming over...you keep an eye out for 'em for me?"

"Sure!" Boy and dog were gone again, out the front door.

Chris went through the dining room into the kitchen. Mary stood at the table, shredding vegetables for a salad. She took one look at her husband's face.

"Are you okay? Vin isn't that bad off is he?"

Chris almost nodded, almost shook his head, ended up just shrugging.

"Somebody attacked him." He kept his voice low.

"What?" Mary matched his tone, keeping her voice quiet. "You said he fell."

"That's what he told me. I was too busy worried about all hell breaking loose at school that I took him at his word." Chris shook his head, angry at himself and guilt ridden about not seeing it sooner. "He has a concussion, cracked ribs, _a fractured vertebrae.._." They could both hear the water running upstairs, but still they kept their voices down so that Vin couldn't hear them. "And I still didn't put it together till I took him to his apartment to get a change of clothes."

"What was in his apartment? And why on earth would Vin lie to you?"

Now Chris shook his head.

"I don't know. His apartment was a wreck, blood all over the bathroom...Vin keeps things to himself when he thinks he has to protect someone. All I can figure is he's protecting someone now."

"Who?" Mary set her knife down on the cutting board and set the red onion back on the plate. "Who would beat him like that, that he'd protect?"

"I wish I knew...if I push him, he'll close right up."

"Dad! Dad! Buck and JD are pulling up the driveway!" Billy yelled through the back door, Cowboy barking his agreement and greeting.

"Okay Billy, thanks..," Chris called back. "I don't want the guys to know about Vin...," he said to Mary. "Just let them think he fell..."

"All right honey," Mary agreed.

*/*/*/*

Vin didn't look at himself in the long mirror as he got dressed. Too much evidence of what he'd let them do. His guilt announced itself on every bruise and scratch on his body. _Should've fought back harder, should've not been taking that shower. Should've let them kill me. _

He sat on the edge of the tub - that thought came across louder than the rest. _Should've fought back hard enough that they had to kill me to touch me. But I didn't.__ What does that mean? Lord - did I let them touch me? Did I let them _- he couldn't even think the word now. _Lord, did I let them?_

Footsteps in the hallway preceded the knock on the bathroom door.

"Vin? How're you comin' in there?" Chris asked.

It took a deep breath that creaked in his ribs to answer. "_I don't know_."

The door opened in a flash and Chris came in, concerned. His eyes took in Vin's whole state at once.

"Did I let them hurt me?" Vin asked. Chris would tell him the truth, even if it was unbearable.

"No," Chris answered, as though Vin had asked if his tie was on crooked.

"I shoulda fought back harder." His voice came out soft, anguished.

"You fought hard enough to get a fractured spine, Vin." Chris crouched beside him. "I wouldn't call that 'letting' anybody do anything."

"What am I gonna do now?" _How do I put all the shattered pieces back together? How do I not cut myself on all the sharp edges of who I don't think I am anymore? _

"You're going to have something to eat and lay down for some rest. I think Nathan or Rain overdid the pain killers and I think you need to close your eyes for awhile." It sounded good to Vin and he nodded. Chris smiled. "Good. C'mon, got the guest room all set up for you. I'll put a fan in there too, chase some of this heat away."

"Can I lay down on the couch?" Vin asked. It seemed to catch Chris off guard.

"Well...sure. You put socks on your feet and I'll grab a pillow and some blankets."

"Okay."

*/*/*/*

Chris walked down the stairs, turned so that he could keep an eye on Vin coming down behind him. Vin walked slowly, holding the banister white-knuckled all the way down. Chris didn't question his desire to sleep on the couch - as long as he slept, anywhere was fine. He'd keep the louver doors shut between the family room, kitchen, and hallway so that Vin wouldn't be disturbed, or raise too many questions among their friends.

"Mary's gonna make you something to eat, just toast and some tea. You'll feel better when you eat." Chris waited by the last step for Vin to make his way all the way down.

"Can she put honey on the toast?" Another question that took Chris by surprise. "Sure, I'll tell her...c'mon."

Chris led the way into the family room. He set the pillow on the arm of the overstuffed couch and waited for Vin to set himself down. Chris wanted to help him, but Vin didn't seem to want to be touched, and Chris couldn't blame him. When Vin was sitting on the couch, with his legs stretched out in front of himself, Chris spread the thin blanket over him. Then he switched on the pole fan that stood next to the sliding glass doors, and pulled the curtains that cut off the view to and from the deck.

"Some of the guys are here." Chris meant to warn Vin, but Vin's expression didn't change. "Buck, Ezra, JD. We're all gonna work on the problem at school. We'll likely be outside or in the kitchen most of the time. I'll check on you regular."

"Okay."

Chris stood over Vin just a bit longer. He hated to leave him, even in another room in his own house. "You're safe here Vin," he said, as much for his own benefit as for Vin's. "We'll take care of you."

to be continued


	10. Chapter 10

With the doors shut and the curtains pulled, Vin rested uneasily in muffled darkness. He could hear the guys talking, Chris and Buck, the quieter tones of JD and Ezra. They must be out on the deck, they sounded close through the sliding glass doors. The hum of the fan made a comfortable barrier of white noise that let him hear their voices without understanding the words. They must be asking where he was though - what was Chris telling them? Did it matter anyway...

His back ached and he shifted a little to try and ease it against the pillow and arm of the couch. How long did Rain say it would take to heal? Three weeks for his ribs, six weeks for his spine. Funny how she never said how long it would take the rest of him to heal, funny how he hadn't asked. Rain seemed to think that his physical injuries were the only ones needed tending to. No mention of psychological trauma. Never a word about how long a soul takes to recover.

*/*/*/*

"Where's Vin?" Buck did ask after a few minutes. Ezra had since joined them, and they were sitting in the Adirondack chairs on the deck.

"He's inside, getting some rest," Chris said, gesturing toward the glass doors. "He fell, cracked his spine against his bathroom sink, hit his head on the mirror. Nathan pumped him so full of painkillers, I don't think Vin remembers his own name."

"Is he okay?" JD asked. Chris started to nod, but Buck said:

"I've had Nathan's painkillers. He won't be feelin' anything for a_ long_ while..."

Ezra frowned though at the information. "How in the world did he manage to accomplish so much damage in such a tiny space as he is afforded in that postage-stamp of a bathroom?"

Chris didn't seem to like that question much.

"Reckon he bounced," he said, frowning himself. Ezra appeared to accept this.

"Now if we can determine some way to entice the Board to 'bounce' Mr. James..," he said.

*/*/*/*

"Vin?" The light from the kitchen glanced into the family room as Mary opened the door. "Think you could eat something?" She spoke quietly.

"Reckon I could try..."

She left the door open as she carried in a small plate and a large cup. Handing them over to Vin, she sat next to him on the footstool. "Toast with honey, just like you wanted." She smiled at him. Chris had warned her, so she'd been expecting the black eyes and pale features, the utter exhaustion evident in Vin.

"I 'preciate it Mary..." Vin looked down at the two slices of toast, cut up into eight little squares, and the huge cup of tea. "...when I'se a kid, when I didn't feel good, my Dad would have me sleep on the couch and give me toast with honey..." Vin felt he had to explain his requests. Mary didn't know how to answer. She knew that Vin had lost his mother when he was little, five maybe, and had lost his Dad some ten years after that. She also knew that Vin never mentioned either of them much.

"That's very sweet Vin...it's nice that you have a memory like that of him."

"Yeah..." Vin didn't drink his tea, and he poked a little at the toast. "You know -" he said suddenly. "- you aren't supposed to give honey to little babies? I read that a long time ago. It said that honey isn't good for 'em, could kill 'em."

"I remember reading about that too," Mary said. She wondered at first why Vin would mention that. "Fortunately I read it before I ever had Billy." Maybe he wanted to eat in privacy, maybe he was just stalling until she left. "Well, I have to go back and finish dinner...let me know if you need anything."

"I will, Mary. Thanks."

When she disappeared back into the kitchen, shutting the door behind her, Vin took a long swallow of tea and picked up one of the squares of toast. He wondered if he'd gag on the solid food. That possibility definitely threatened. But his body was beginning to want food and Vin thought that might be a good sign. So he took a small bite of toast, chewed it a little while to see how his body reacted. When it went down without a problem, he finished all the toast and tea, then set the cup and plate on the floor next to the couch. Turning just a little more onto his side, to face the back of the couch, Vin closed his eyes and finally fell into a deep sleep.

*/*/*/*

"I will personally deliver the financial information to the Dean first thing tomorrow morning," Ezra was saying. "No doubt the elder Mr. James will immediately and adequately reimburse whatever amount Lucas has _'borrowed'_ from the University, but I think that with very little coercion on our part, the Board will surmise that the time behind bars his DUI is resulting in will seriously impede Lucas James' ability to discharge his office - even to the inconsiderable limits which were normally his custom."

"I hope so," Chris said. Ezra noticed that every once in a while, Chris's eyes lingered on the sliding glass doors, as though pondering what was behind them. "Vin's tellin' me horror stories about the way he treats his staff."

"I can run a check on him down at the Precinct," Buck said. "See if there's anything else you can use against him. Might be his uncle bought off victims, but a varmint like him - I'd bet there's a lot of complaints been signed against him."

"That'll help Buck, thanks..."

"I still know a lot of people on the Maintenance and Housekeeping staff," JD said. "I'll talk to them tomorrow. Groundskeeping too. Maybe when they hear James is gone, they'll talk a little easier."

"Tell them they'll stay anonymous if that'll help."

The meeting broke up. Buck told Mary he'd get the grill started. JD went out into the yard with Billy to play catch with Cowboy. Ezra got Chris alone and startled him by saying:

"I must gather from your loquacious report of Mr. Tanner's misfortune that, despite your verbiage, we were not given the entire story."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Chris tried.

"Mr. Larabee, we both know that under normal circumstances, your response to the question of Vin's whereabouts would've been roughly _'Sleeping. Got hurt. Leave him alone._' When a man as short-spoken as yourself feels the need to expound, I'm driven to the inevitable conclusion that he's attempting to camouflage something with words."

Ezra was right and Chris didn't know what to say. His eyes flashed back to the sliding glass doors. When he didn't answer, Ezra went on.

"May I inquire then, is Mr. Tanner in any immediate danger, physical or otherwise? And if so, or even if not, is there any way I may be of help to him - or to you?"

Chris turned this over.

"Naah, Ezra. Thanks. Vin'll be okay. Needs to rest. You help me nail James to the wall though." Ezra gave him a questioning look which Chris understood. "No, James has got nothing to do with Vin getting hurt. Vin just doesn't like him and wants him gone even more than I do...Vin'll be okay Ezra. He'll appreciate you asking."

*/*/*/*

The weather turned decidedly cool as the afternoon wore on. Heavy wind blew rain clouds in from off the lake. Soon after, the sky turned black and fat rain drops pelted the ground. Chris checked on Vin a few times, each time he was still solidly asleep. When the wind picked up, Chris shut off the fan and opened one the glass doors a few inches to let fresh air into the room. He heard a soft whistle of surprise behind him and turned to see that Buck had come into the room and gotten a fair look at Vin's face. Chris shot him a warning glance and they went back into the kitchen.

"You said he hurt his back," Buck whispered.

"Long story," Chris told him. "Stick around, I need your help."

to be continued


	11. Chapter 11

The air inside Vin's apartment hung stale and thick with the smell of dried blood. Buck's eyes took in everything - the gouges on the door frame, the ransacked frontroom, the blood on the carpet... Like Chris, he followed those footprints to the bathroom. He told Chris repeatedly on the drive over that he'd seen plenty of grisly crime scenes in his time on the force; Vin was still alive, this one couldn't be that bad. So Chris hung back and let Buck look where he would.

"_God almighty_." He said it as a prayer as he opened the bathroom door. So much blood. Before taking another step, he pulled a pair of latex gloves out of his pocket and snapped them on. "Has Vin told you anything?" he asked Chris over his shoulder. "Like who, or how many, or why?" Buck had to disconnect the sight of the blood from the realization that it had come from his friend.

"Nothing. All he'll say is he fell." Chris walked close enough to the little room to be heard by Buck and no farther. Buck looked at everything, gingerly opened the shattered medicine chest, peered under the sink and behind the toilet. Then he lifted the wastebasket to check its contents.

"_Oh damn..._" He turned to Chris, still standing outside the door. "There's used condoms in here. _Damn_." It only took a second for Buck to realize that Chris wasn't asking what he was getting at - and that he didn't seem surprised at all, standing there with his head down and his hands shoved in his pockets. "You knew, didn't you Chris?" Buck's voice was mild at first. "You knew what happened to him." When Chris didn't answer, Buck got a little more insistent. "_Didn't you_?"

_"I suspected_," Chris shot back. "Not at first. Not till we left Nathan's and I brought him back here to get some clothes to stay at my house." _Not till I saw him sitting there crying_. "Not till I saw the blood and the handprints and knew he'd been lying to me about falling."

Buck set the basket back where it belonged and gave another close look around the bathroom. "What are we going to do here Chris?" he asked. "Have I got a crime scene I need to secure, or is this just a housekeeping emergency at a friend's apartment?" Chris held his answer a few long moments.

_"I don't know."_

*/*/*/*

"_...deliver us from evil..._" Vin came awake with a prayer as thunder rolled away from the little house. He was still on the couch, covered with a blanket. For the briefest second, he couldn't remember where he was or why, then it rolled over him like waves, and he squeezed his eyes even tighter closed than they were. Maybe if he didn't move, it would go away. Maybe if he held his breath and didn't move, he wouldn't drown in it. He held himself still, praying that the pain and nausea wouldn't come back. Behind him, he heard Chris flipping a page of computer printouts, heard him slide the stack of papers to the floor, stand up and stretch, and walk out to the kitchen.

When he was gone into the kitchen, Vin gently turned himself onto his back. It hurt - he'd have to take some painkillers, maybe a handful or so. Maybe he could eat something again. What time was it? Dark - dark and raining outside. The house was quiet so the guys must be gone. He didn't hear Billy or Cowboy or Mary...must be late. He looked around, but the VCR clock was too far away to make out without trying. He needed to get up though, and he pulled the blanket back and carefully propelled himself to his feet and headed into the kitchen. Chris stood at the counter, making tea. He looked up.

"Hey - how're you feeling?"

"I don't know," Vin said. His voice was dull. He got himself a glass of water and downed a couple of painkillers. "Gotta use the bathroom."

"Think you can find your way?"

"I'll send up a flare if I can't."

Larabee's downstairs half bathroom was a tiny affair, still Vin stopped at the doorway, switched on the light, and took a good look before stepping inside and shutting the door. The bathroom was clean, he didn't remember leaving it clean when he'd been sick in here today. He shook his head at the trouble he was causing his friends. All the work and worry. He sure didn't mean to be causing it - tomorrow he'd go back home to his apartment. He had to start cleaning the place up. Make it livable again. Tomorrow he'd start thinking again about what had happened and what he had to do about it. He walked back through the kitchen, aiming for the couch and more sleep. Chris was still at the counter, pouring tea into two cups.

"Think you could eat something?" he asked. Vin saw the bowl of fruit next to the fridge. "Can I make myself a banana and milk?"

"Sure, I'll do it for you."

"...'kay...put a lotta sugar in it."

"Lotta sugar ain't good for you," Chris said, as he handed Vin a cup of tea.

"Lotta things ain't good for me," Vin mumbled and went back to his bed on the couch.

Chris awkwardly carried a cup of tea and two bowls into the family room. "Sounded good," he said as Vin took the one bowl from him. "Made some for myself." He sat in the recliner and set his tea on the floor. "You slept a while," he offered. "Six or seven hours."

"Don't feel like it," Vin said. He took a cautious swallow of milk and banana. It stayed down so he ate some more.

"Well, you'll be able to sleep the rest of the night then."

"Yeah..." A few more swallows stayed confidently in Vin's stomach. "How's that problem at school coming? The guys help you figure it out?" His voice was soft, but he was genuinely interested. Chris kind of shrugged, kind of shook his head.

"Yes, no. Some big time embezzlement goin' on there. Figure the head of Fiscal Services is involved."

"Royal?"

"Yep, Guy Royal. Got a lotta evidence pointing to him, and we both know that James is too stupid to pull this off himself...I think we only found the tip of the iceberg. But I'm willing to bet that Lucas James is finished at St. Michael's."

"Thank God," Vin said. Just knowing that made his back hurt a little less. "If Gloria doesn't know already, can I tell her? It'll sure make her happy."

"Sure. As soon as it can be made public, you go right ahead...she must be a good lady, you care about her like that."

"She is a good lady. I've gone to her house to fix things for her, busted lamp or her car won't start, dryer blew a fuse. She gives me dinner, sends me home with food. She is a real nice lady. It'll be nice to see her smile again." Talking about Gloria Potter brought another woman to mind. "_Nettie_ - I was supposed to call her, let her know what's going on." He couldn't risk that she'd take it into her head to have a look at his apartment.

"She called, Mary told her you were sleeping and you'd call her tomorrow."

"Ohh - okay." That settled Vin a little.

*/*/*/*

"Finished?" Chris asked a few minutes later, when he saw that Vin was done. "I'll take your bowl and cup out to the sink."

"Thanks." Vin handed them over.

"You want to sleep on the couch, or in the bed upstairs?"

"Umm..." Vin considered the choices. "Upstairs."

"Okay..." When Chris came back into the room, Vin stood up and started to walk toward the front hallway and the stairs going upstairs. Chris shadowed him, reaching out a few times to put a steadying hand on Vin's arm or shoulder. By the time they reached the stairs, Vin was clearly worn out and Chris guided him to have a seat on the bottom step. "Here, catch your breath. I'll shut off the lights and check the doors."

"Okay." Vin gladly accepted the rest, and leaned against the wall. As he sat there, hearing Chris moving around the house, he felt a calmness inside, a security in knowing that Chris was looking out for him. Sitting there, in diffuse pain physically and emotionally, Vin decided that he could tell Chris what happened. Chris knew he'd been beat up, but Vin wanted to tell him everything. He wanted to tell him now, tonight, so that tomorrow morning he couild wake up and be starting fresh.

"Everything's locked up tight," Chris said. "Ready to start up again?"

"There's something I got to tell you." Vin said.

"Okay," Chris answered slowly. The stairs weren't wide enough to sit next to Vin and let him have space, so Chris crouched down in front of him.

"I've got to tell you what happened to me...what happened...in my bathroom." He dropped his eyes as his courage failed. He couldn't form or find the words, not gentle, easy words. The only words to be used were harsh, unrelenting words that Vin couldn't make himself say. He stammered a few times, and Chris reached out again and put a strong, reassuring hand on his shoulder.

The feeling of safety and warmth from Chris touching him made Vin reconsider. If he told Chris everything, probably Chris would never touch him again. Never want to be anywhere near him, ever again. He was about to say 'okay' and leave it at that - what Chris didn't know wouldn't hurt Vin. But Chris said:

"I know what happened to you Vin."

"I got beat up." Maybe he could just leave it there.

"I know. And I know what else they did to you."

That was just plain absurdity and Vin said so. "No, you don't know." What in the world could Chris think he knew? "Nobody knows."

"I know Vin," Chris said again, and panic began to rise in Vin. _Did he know?_

"No, you don't know." He didn't know, did he? Vin tried to remember any conversation they'd had at the clinic, or on the way home, or at his apartment. Chris couldn't know. Vin knew he hadn't said anything. Nathan and Rain wouldn't say anything. Chris couldn't know.

"I _do_ know, Vin," Chris said one more time, and was surprised when Vin stood up abruptly and took a few steps into the hallway. Chris stood as well, and turned to face him.

"No, you don't know." The panic ran full force through Vin. "I don't know what you're talking about. Nothing happened. You don't know what happened." Vin backed away from Chris a step or two at a time.

"Vin..." Chris kept his voice low and calm. "I know they forced themselves on you." It had to be said, and Chris said it.

_"No."_

"I know they broke into your apartment when you were taking a shower and they beat you till you couldn't fight back..."

_"No..."_ Vin's voice was weaker. Chris didn't know, something told Vin that Chris couldn't know. If he told Chris what that was, then he'd have to admit that he didn't know. "You don't know. Don't you see? If you really knew what they did, you wouldn't touch me, you wouldn't stand near me..." As Vin talked, Chris closed the distance between them, till he was only a few inches away. "...you wouldn't let me sleep on your couch or use your towels..."

"Vin -" Chris moved to put his hand on Vin's shoulder but Vin roughly brushed him off.

"_NO! GOD PLEASE, YOU DON"T KNOW!_" Vin shouted, and he stared at Chris, panicked and desperate, pressed against the inside of the front door. Tears filled his eyes. If Chris already knew - how long had he known? How could he know and still treat Vin like a friend?

"Vin - I know," Chris said again, still in a low, calm voice. Vin began to sink slowly down to the floor. "I know they hurt you, I know they forced you. I know that if I ever get my hands on them I'll make them wish their _parents_ hadn't been born." He reached out again, and Vin let Chris steady him till he was sitting on the floor in front of the door.

"I tried to stop them," Vin said. His voice was small and pained, wavering on the edge of tears.

"I know."

"They kept kicking me. Every time I tried to move, they'd kick me till I didn't move...I tried to get away. Once I almost got through the bathroom door but they dragged me back in...they said they were gonna kill me..."

"It's okay, Vin, you're safe here. They can't hurt you." Chris knelt in front of Vin. If it would help Vin to get it all out, then Chris would be there for it all.

"They said if I told anybody, they'd come back. They said said they'd do worse to me if I told anybody." His body shook and he scrubbed his shirt sleeve across his eyes. "I just wanted it to stop. I wasn't gonna tell anybody. I just wanted 'em to stop hurting me." Vin squeezed his eyes shut, but it didn't stop the tears that ran down his face.

Chris heard a noise behind him and turned to see Billy standing on the landing of the staircase, staring at Vin. In a second, Mary was there, quietly pulling him back to his room. Vin didn't notice a thing.

"They slammed my head into the mirror so hard, I thought they busted my skull. I just...wanted...them...to stop." He choked the words out on a sobbing breath. "God, it hurt _so bad._" He wrapped his arms around himself and rocked back and forth, crying hard with all the things he'd been trying to hide. "All the blood, and they just kept laughing at me...God...God... why did they do that to me?" Words failed him then, nothing left but tears, and the raw pain and humiliation, the certainty that Chris would abandon him too.

Chris had never seen Vin so broken and vulnerable, sitting on the cold tile of a darkened hallway, crying so hard he couldn't catch his breath. It tore at Chris, the shame and pain and fear he knew Vin must be carrying.

"It's okay, Vin, you're safe here." Chris put his arms around Vin and held him, shaking and sobbing, against himself. Vin's body still struggled to rock back and forth against the emotional anguish, so Chris gently followed, rocking him, softly repeating "_...it's okay...you're safe..._" as many times as it took.

Vin pressed himself into the security, ashamed of exposing himself to Chris like this, but desperately needing the comfort and reassurance, the physical closeness. If Chris could stand to touch him, maybe he wasn't as dirty as he thought he was. If Chris could hold onto him, maybe he could get all the pieces back the way they were before.

*/*/*/*

Chris held on until Vin's crying eased, from sobbing to a hitched breath every once in awhile, until his breathing was shaky but regular, until his body tensed, and he pulled himself away. Chris let him go slowly, making sure he'd be steady on his own, keeping one hand on his back.

"Sh-sh-should go to bed I guess," Vin said. He didn't look at Chris. His body still shook and now his head pounded, almost in retaliation for the outburst. He pulled a sleeve over his hand and scrubbed the tears from his face. Chris didn't think Vin would be able to get anywhere by himself.

"Can you make it upstairs?" he asked. "I'll help you."

And Vin helped him to his feet and kept an arm around him to steady him and they made their way slowly up the staircase. The guest room had a bunk bed and Vin laid himself down on the lower bunk without even changing into pajamas. He turned on his side away from Chris, pulled as close to the wall as he could get. He kept telling himself '._..tomorrow. I'll be able to deal with this tomorrow..._' The headache and embarrassment roared in his ears. '._..just let me get to sleep...I don't have to think about anything if I'm asleep..._' He felt Chris lay a blanket over him. _'Please God, just let me go to sleep..._'

"You get some rest Vin," Chris told him. "I'll see you in the morning..."

"...'kay..."

Chris closed the door over and left the hall light on. He went into his own room and sat on the edge of the bed. Mary had been waiting up for an explanation, but one look at Chris and she knew she wasn't going to get one tonight. She sat next to him and wrapped her arms around him. He buried his face in her shoulder and held onto her a long time.

to be continued


	12. Chapter 12

Morning took Vin by surprise. He woke up still facing the wall, with the blanket pulled tight around his shoulders. Warm, comfortable, and in no immediate pain, he didn't move at first, just took his bearings. Today was Sunday, he was pretty sure. He was in Chris and Mary's guest room, sleeping in his clothes. The only sound he could hear in the house was the muffled noise of television cartoons and an occasional burst of childish laughter. Billy must be awake and watching TV.

Slowly, Vin pulled the blanket away and stood up from the lower bunk. His back twinged and he felt in his shirt pocket to make sure his painkillers were still there. As he moved to the bedroom door, the other aches and pains throughout his body came to life - bruises, scratches, lacerations, his broken ribs and pounding head - and he shuffled stiffly the few feet down the hall to the bathroom.

As he turned to leave a few minutes later, he caught sight of himself in the long mirror. His eyes looked puffy from the night before, the bruises underneath them were beginning to mutate into browns and yellows, and he needed a shave. He lightly touched the stitches on the back of his head, ruffling his fingers through his hair. Finally, he undid his shirt, one button at a time, wanting but dreading to see the physical damage done to his body. The buttons came awkwardly, Vin held back, afraid that if he saw too much too soon, his gag reflex would kick in and end up driving his pain off the map.

When the shirt was completely unbuttoned, he pulled it first off one arm, then the other, trying not to look at his reflection. But then he looked. The worst bruises were on his legs, he knew. But his ribcage was a close second. Blue, purple, and red welts of various sizes and intensity covered him from collarbone down, and on both sides of his torso deep fingernail scratches ran from above his waist to his thigh.

He could hear_ them_ laughing now, laughing at his desperate attempts to get free, to keep from crying out. His first instincts had been to call for help, but that quickly changed to praying no one ever found out.

Well, Chris knew now, didn't he? Chris and Nathan and Rain. Vin guessed he'd be okay as long as nobody else ever found out. He could just tuck it away with everything else and his life would go on. Nobody else ever had to know.

He stared at his body a few minutes more then pulled his shirt back on. He wanted to take a shower, but he only had the clothes he was wearing, and he didn't want to put those back on after getting clean again. He checked the hamper and it was empty, so maybe Chris had washed his clothes like he said he would. Vin walked out of the bathroom, down the hallway, and down the stairs, resting his hand for support on the walls and hand railings. He felt a little light headed and shaky, probably from having hardly anything to eat all yesterday. But getting clean was more important than eating, it was more important than anything right now.

"Hey, how'd you sleep?" Chris's voice caught Vin off guard. He wasn't expecting to see Chris sitting on the floor of the family room, Billy in his lap, watching some cartoon or another.

"Okay...was gonna take a shower...wondered if my clothes were washed?"

Billy gave a quick look over his Dad's shoulder.

"Hi Vin!"

"Hey Billy," Vin answered softly.

"Yeah, I'll get 'em for you...here Billy, stand up so I -"

"No, I'll get 'em Chris. They're in the dryer?"

He headed off through the family room, into the kitchen, and down the hallway where the washer and dryer sat, nearly opposite the little bathroom, near the back door. He kept mind of his aches and pains as he bent down to retrieve the laundry. What wasn't his he folded neatly and put in the empty clothes basket on top of the dryer. Towels mostly.

"You finding 'em?" Chris asked, coming into the hallway.

"Piece by piece, yeah. Mary do the wash?"

"I did the laundry." Chris said.

Vin nodded. "I guess that explains this..." He held up a mint green sock. One of his. It used to be white.

_"Sorry..."_

"Nah, I got lots of these at home, all colors..."

*/*/*/*

Vin came back downstairs after his shower. Billy was gone out of the family room and he could hear Chris in the kitchen. He stopped in the front hallway though and stared at the floor where he'd broken down last night. Last night? Maybe this morning? He didn't know what time it'd been, when the house was dark and silent, strangely unfamiliar to Vin who'd spent a lot of time here over the few years he'd known Chris. Now the house was filled with daylight and sound - the TV still on in the family room though Billy was nowhere in sight, the dishwasher running in the kitchen, and Mary calling to Chris from the backdoor that she'd be back soon.

Just a normal Sunday morning in the Larabee house, just like any one of a dozen Sunday mornings Vin had spent here.

Yeah, right.

*/*/*/*

Chris heard Vin come downstairs again. From where he stood at the kitchen counter, Chris could look over shoulder into the front hallway. He saw Vin stop at the front door and stare down at the black and white tile like he was trying to remember something. Last night had been hard on both of them, Vin for having to tell, and Chris for having to hear. He hoped, now that Vin knew that he knew, that Vin would have an easier time recovering, knowing that he didn't have to hide it from Chris at least.

_Please God, don't let Vin think he has to hide anything from me...I had enough of that with Stephen..._

As he thought of his brother-in-law, Chris's hand curled painfully around the handle of the knife he was using to slice up the banana. He tried to get his mind back to the present. He couldn't let himself get trapped in a past he couldn't change. He had to stay here and help Vin.

"That banana musta done somethin' all-fired bad to you, the way you're attackin' it." Vin's voice startled Chris.

"Didn't hear you come in."

"Guess not...you make one a'them for me?" Vin asked, nodding to the bananas and milk waiting on the counter, as he got a glass of water to take more painkillers.

"You bet. How're you feeling today?"

Vin took a deep breath to answer, but just shook his head. He was managing to stave off an emotional and psychological descent into hell, but how could he say that to Chris? He didn't trust his voice or his emotions to say that if Chris hadn't taken him in, he'd be a screaming wreck right now, barricaded inside his apartment, terrified of every sound and movement in his building. He knew he couldn't say that Chris knowing, and understanding, and still wanting to be his friend, was the only thing keeping him sane, when it would be so easy to slip off into silent, mindless, shock.

"Guess I'm a little better today."

They each took a bowl of bananas and milk out to the deck. The day wouldn't be nearly as hot as the previous week had been; the downpour yesterday had pushed most of the heat away. They ate for awhile in silence.

"Was figurin' on headin' back to my apartment today," Vin said, as he finished his breakfast. "Start gettin' cleaned up."

"We'll help you." It came out before Chris realized.

_"We?"_ Vin didn't like the sound of that.

"Yeah...Buck and I..," Chris said. Vin let out a deep, exasperated sigh. "Vin - he's a cop, I wanted him to have a look at your place..."

_"I didn't want anybody to know._" But the circle just kept getting bigger.

"I know. I'm sorry. I'm worried about you."

"Yeah..." Vin roughly set his bowl on the deck beside him, and rested his head in his hands, the way he had at his apartment, shielding his eyes. Now Buck knew - the horror just wasn't going to stop, was it?

"Vin?" Chris had to tell him.

"What?" the voice came from behind the hands.

"Buck wants to come over and talk to you."

Vin sat up abruptly, his eyes wide in obvious panic at the prospect.

"You don't have to, if you don't want to," Chris hastened to reassure him. "And even if you do talk to him, doesn't mean you have to file a report or a complaint, or anything. He just wants to talk to you."

Vin could tell that Chris was being honest, he was sorry Buck had found out, and that he was worried about Vin. He sighed. "When does he wanna talk to me?"

to be continued


	13. Chapter 13

Vin dreaded Buck's visit. He didn't want to talk about what happened. He'd told Nathan and Rain - well, he hadn't told them _everything_. They kept asking _"...is that all...is there anything else...?"_ and Vin would silently lie each time they asked, shaking his head and saying nothing. But Chris - it felt to Vin that he told Chris everything even without hardly saying anything at all. But somehow that felt okay.

"What am I gonna do?" Vin whispered. He was sitting on Chris's back deck, every nerve on alert to hear the familiar rattle of Buck's truck pulling up the driveway. He ran his fingers through Cowboy's fur. The black lab stretched where he lay against Vin's leg and thumped his tail heavily on the deck without lifting his head. "Lord, I hate this..." Cowboy sat up and leaned against Vin, wanting his ears scratched. Instead, Vin put his arms around the dog and rested his head against the scratchy fur. "I hate this."

*/*/*/*

With the lights off in the family room, Chris could see through the opaque curtains over the sliding glass doors out to the deck where Vin seemed to be holding onto the dog for dear life. Even in the best circumstance, Vin kept himself physically distant from most people. When they went to lunch or dinner with the guys, Vin always sat at the end of the table, never between two people when he could help it. He kept a two or sometimes three foot buffer of air between himself and anybody he might be talking to.

Chris remembered the first time Vin introduced him to Nettie though, and how surprised he was when they were leaving her house and Vin willingly turned to her for a goodbye hug. It surprised Chris so much that he stared at Vin for awhile as they walked back to Vin's apartment. Now, he stared at Vin hugging Cowboy, amazed that the usually perpetually active dog sat there quietly, as though guarding the man who was literally resting all his trust and emotional need against him. Chris was torn between letting Vin deal with things the way he felt most comfortable, and going out to him to offer another choice.

Ten years ago, Chris never would've never thought of it. He grew up in a home where men didn't cry, or visibly suffer emotional pain, or ever _ever_ need help. '_Maybe if I had..._' he thought again, and again pushed it away. _'Wouldn't have mattered anyway...I tried the best I could but Stephen didn't want help...'_ Chris watched Vin turn his head up and let Cowboy lick his face. Ten years ago, hell even five years ago the most emotional support he would've been able to offer would probably have been a quick thump on the shoulder, or tickets to a football game. But he'd learned the hard way that life is too short to let pride have the last word.

*/*/*/*

When Vin heard Chris coming back outside, he sat up from Cowboy, gritting his teeth against the stab of pain in his back, and used his sleeve to scrub his face clean of dog spit and tears. The dog stood up to take the old soup bone Chris offered him, and ran off into the yard to play with it. Chris sat down close to where Cowboy had been, a little closer than Vin was comfortable with, but with the railing behind him, he had nowhere else to go. He wondered what Chris wanted.

"How're you feeling?" Chris asked. He put a gentle hand on Vin's fractured spine. _"You okay?"_ and Vin lost it. He thought he'd be done with the guilt and the fear and the crying, but here he was again. Not twelve hours after spilling his guts to Chris in the darkened front hallway, tears ran down his face again and his breath choked in his throat.

"_Don't want to talk to Buck_," he managed to say. His voice sounded high and broken to his ears.

"Don't have to." Chris slid his arm around Vin and held him.

"_...please..._" He struggled to pull in a breath.

"I'll tell him..."

"Help me..." Vin asked though he had no idea what he wanted Chris to do.

_"I'm right here..." _

So they sat awhile on Chris's deck, Chris with his arm around Vin, and Vin trying as hard as he could to stop himself from crying and drowning in the emotional pain.

"Wanna take a shower," he said after awhile.

"You had a shower this morning Vin, just a little while ago. You ain't dirty." He kept his voice soft and encouraging.

"_I am._ You don't know..._I am_..."

"You can tell me Vin...it'll help if you tell me."

"_...can't..._"

"Okay."

*/*/*/*

Buck parked his truck behind Vin's and headed up Chris' driveway. He heard voices from around behind the house and followed the brick path that way. Two voices, Chris and Vin - low and concerned, and high and uncertain. This was not a conversation that Buck wanted to interrupt. He slowed his steps as he came to the corner of the house and took a peek around. Vin sat huddled into himself on the top step of the deck, with Chris next to him, leaning close and keeping his arm around him.

_Aw hell._

Buck knew this had to be hard for Vin. He'd spent all morning talking with a couple officers in Sex Offenses, not mentioning names or circumstances, but asking information on how to deal with this, what questions to ask, what reactions to look out for. He wasn't wanting to talk to Vin to get him to press charges, or name names, or to satisfy his natural cop's inquisitiveness. Buck mostly thought he could be a detached person that Vin could open up to. If he asked the right questions, and got the honest answers, it would at least be a few pieces of horror that Vin wouldn't have to carry by himself.

But not now. Vin looked to be in no shape to have that conversation _now_.

Chris saw movement out of the corner of his eye, and turned to see Buck at the turn in the path. He caught Buck's eye and motioned with his head that he should come on. When he started walking their way, Chris turned back to Vin, who sat with his hands over his eyes.

"Buck's here." Chris felt him flinch. "I'll tell him you won't be talking with him, okay? Then we'll see what we want to do. If you're up to it, we can go to your apartment and help you start straightening up. Okay?"

Vin nodded and wiped his eyes. When Chris stood up, he had to fight the urge to grab onto his arm and keep him right there beside him.

"How is he?" Buck asked when Chris was close enough.

"It's being rough on him...he doesn't want to talk to you about it right now."

"Don't blame him. Can't says as I'm as ready to do any talkin' on the subject myself at the moment." Buck let out a sigh, watching Vin wipe at his face. "I'll still help you get his place cleaned up though...think he'd mind if I said hi?"

"Naah, come on."

*/*/*/*

When Vin saw that Buck was coming toward him, he felt the sudden urge to hide, but he knew he'd never get anywhere in time. So he stayed where he was, with his eyes planted firmly on his stocking feet. Chris would tell Buck he didn't want to talk, so all Vin had to worry about was getting through the first few words that they'd say to each other. He knew it was self-pity, but he let his mind roll the words out anyway. _The first words we'll say to each other since I was attacked. I haven't laid eyes on Buck since before I wasn't who I used to be..._

*/*/*/*

Buck didn't come too close, arm's length maybe. He crouched down in front of his friend.

"Hey Vin." He wanted to sound casual, but he could hear the concern in his own voice. Then no other words came to him.

"Hey Buck," Vin answered without lifting his head. When Buck didn't say anything else, Vin became uneasy. Was he supposed to say something? What did Buck want? Thank the Lord, Chris sat down next to him again.

"I'm gonna put some tea on Vin. Think you could eat something?" Vin nodded and turned his head up to look at Chris. But Chris didn't know what he saw in Vin's eyes. Fear? Gratitude? "You want to come back inside? Or I can bring it out here."

Vin thought about it and decided he wanted to stay out in the air and the breeze because then anything that did get said would be blown off into all its little molecules and not build up inside the house like last night -_ or was it this morning?_ - would.

"Bring it out here?"

"Sure, I'll be right back." Chris stood up and Vin had to fight the urge _again_ to grab his arm as he walked into the house. Cowboy came running over then, having just noticed Buck.

"Hey dog. Where you been hidin' yourself?" Buck scrubbed his fingers all up and down Cowboy's back, and the dog obliged by turning and twisting himself to make sure Buck got every last itchy spot. "Some watchdog you are." Then Cowboy jumped onto the deck, shook himself off as though he were wet, and flung himself down next to Vin again.

"You got dog biscuits or something I don't know about in your pocket?" Buck asked Vin. "Not often Cowboy deserts me you know." Vin finally looked at Buck, the barest hint of a smile turning up his mouth.

"Dog knows who his friends are. Can't be bribed with just biscuits..." The ice was broken, and Buck took Chris's vacated spot on the deck.

"How're you doin' Vin?"

"Don't know." They sat facing out into the yard. "Pretty much just takin' it one breath at a time." Vin looked over this shoulder into the house. He didn't know how to say it, but Buck could read it in his face.

"I'm glad he's taking care of you...he was spittin' nails yesterday."

"At my apartment?"

"Yeah...look Vin..." Buck figured he had to tell him. "Nothin' official, but I had a couple friends come to your place last night, dust for prints, take blood samples, and...evidence..."

This set hard with Vin, more people, more _strangers_ in his apartment, touching stuff that wasn't theirs, invading his space.

"What kind of evidence?" His voice was almost disinterested.

"Umm...the condoms they threw in your bathroom garbage can..." Buck was expecting a few reactions, but not the bitter laugh Vin tossed out.

"Couldn't get 'em for litterin' then? They'd do anything else on this green earth, but oh no, not _litter_..." Vin bent his head down and put his hands in his hair, curling his fingers painfully against his scalp.

"Vin?" Buck was a little worried that he'd said too much. "Nothin' official," he said again. "Just wanted to get it down 'fore we help you clean up." Vin nodded without lifting his head. "I also ran a check of any incidents in your neighborhood recently..." Vin nodded absently, not realizing where Buck was headed. "I had a talk with your neighbor Maria and her parents -" Vin's head came up at that.

"_You stay away from her! She's got nothin' to do with this! Don't you go near her.._." From his response, Buck had the answer to a lot of questions.

"Vin..." He kept his voice calm and even. "I didn't tell her what happened to you. I told her and her parents that somebody broke into your apartment and hurt you. It was the same three boys who tried to molest Maria, wasn't it?" Vin dropped his eyes, but didn't answer. "They had to be told about the danger Vin. You wouldn't want Maria wandering around all by herself, not knowing that they could become really violent. You wouldn't want that, would you?"

"No..." he had to admit.

"I'm sorry I didn't wait to ask your permission before collecting the evidence in your apartment Vin. Evidence degrades if you wait too long, didn't want to lose the chance before we knew whether or not you wanted to take it."

"Yeah..." Buck waited a little while, then was about to go into the house and help Chris, but Vin's soft question stopped him. "Am I the only one?"

"Only one what?"

"Only one this ever happened to?" The important part of the question remained unspoken. The only _man_ this ever happened to?

"No Vin, not by a long shot. And I don't even mean what goes on in prisons. Out here in the free and clear real world. Happens all the time."

"Y'ever investigated one?"

"No, I never worked - that department." Buck couldn't bring himself to say 'Sex Offenses' to Vin. "But I know officers who do work there...I'll be honest Vin. It's probably one of the least reported crimes. Even when it happens to women, only 80% report the crime, 60% press charges, 40% get an arrest, and only 20% get a conviction. All the percentages are way lower when the victim is a man."

_Victim _

Buck saw Vin mouth the word. He hadn't meant to imply that's what he thought Vin was.

"You're a survivor Vin. And I don't mean just your whole life. Once you stood up again and decided to live instead of die where they left you, you became a survivor. You survived, never forget that."

"Yeah..."

Another silence followed, but Buck stayed where he was, sensing that more was coming.

"Is it always the same?" Vin asked. "What happens? And why they do it? Is it because - did I do something that made them think - why did they do that?" His confusion, frustration and guilt were evident on his face. "Was it 'cause I was takin' a shower? Was it somethin' I did?"

"You know something Vin - it was because of something you did. It was because you defended little Maria from them. That's all. After that, they broke the law, they committed the crime. There wasn't anything you could do or not do, unless you could see into the future. It just happened, that's all."

"But why would they want to -" but he couldn't finish the sentence.

"They were out for revenge, Vin. They attacked you. They committed a crime of violence against you. The more they could humiliate you, the less likely it would be that you'd report it. It happens a lot." Buck watched Vin paying attention to what he was saying. Maybe they could have that talk after all.

"You asked if it's always the same Vin - the attack. And yeah, basically, it is. The details may vary, but there's things that always seem to happen, in any attack like this."

"Things like what?"

"Anyway they can humiliate the person...like make them perform oral sex on them." He kept an eye on Vin's reaction.

"They tried," Vin said. "I told 'em, didn't care what they did to me, anything that went in my mouth was gonna get bit in half...that put 'em off a bit..."

"Good for you," Buck told him, daring to give him a solid tap on his shoulder.

"What else?" Vin's voice shook, but he was desperate to know. Talking about it made it less scary somehow.

"They can make a person's body react so that it seems like - physically - they're enjoying it..," Buck said. Vin's face flushed dark, but he didn't say anything. "But it's just a physical reaction, and has nothing to do with what the person's wants."

"Do they ever - when it was over - and I thought they were leavin' - does anybody else - one of 'em came back in and - and -"

Buck knew what they'd found in Vin' bathroom. "They pissed on you, didn't they?" He asked it as gently as he knew how.

Vin tried to nod, but the world got dark and loud, the horror screaming into his ears again, shattering him like glass. God, he was going to be sick again...

*/*/*/*

Chris had stayed away while Buck talked with Vin. He stood in the family room, behind the opaque curtains, close enough to hear the conversation. When Vin started shouting about Maria, Chris almost went out to him, till he heard and saw Buck calm him down. Now, whatever Buck said that Chris wasn't able to catch had Vin putting his hands over his ears like he couldn't stand to hear anything else, and he bent over double, trying to keep from gagging. Chris went right out to him.

"Vin...what'd you say to him?" he demanded of Buck, who didn't answer, only stood up so that Chris could be next to Vin.

"Take - a - shower -" Vin insisted, begging, moving his hands to cover his mouth. "_Please_. Wanna take a shower."

"All right." Chris put his arm around Vin again and held him. "I'll get you some clean clothes, you can take a shower."

"Now? _Please?"_

"Yep, right now."

Chris helped Vin to his feet and guided him into the house, and sent him up to the shower while he went to fish some of his own clean clothes out of the laundry basket. Buck followed him.

"What happened?" Chris asked and Buck gave him a fast run down of their conversation, including the last part.

"No wonder he feels dirty..," Chris said and shook his head. "This is his second shower this morning..."

"I didn't mean to upset him Chris...thought talkin' would help...it was the same ones who pestered his neighbor, the little girl. No doubt about it..."

Chris shook his head again and brought the clothes upstairs to the bathroom, where Vin already had the hot water running in the shower.

"Thanks." Vin saw that they weren't his clothes. "I'm sorry...I should go home. I shouldn't be here. Just causin' too much trouble..."

"You're right where you should be Vin. With friends who want to help you...you take a shower, then we'll go and help you clean your apartment. _You're not alone Vin. Okay?"_

Finally, Vin nodded. "Okay."

to be continued


	14. Chapter 14

Done with his second shower of the day - _so far _- Vin sat in his borrowed clothes on the top stair of the staircase. He didn't want to go down and face Buck or Chris. He couldn't face them again. Between the two of them, they knew practically everything that'd happened to him. How could he just go and have a normal conversation with them again? Especially after what he and Buck had talked about? It just would never happen.

"Vin?" Mary appeared at the bottom of the stairs. "How are you doing?" She noticed that his hair was wet. He'd been taking a shower when she left the house this morning, now his hair was wet again, and he was dressed in some of Chris's clothes.

"I'm okay," he lied. "Just sittin'."

"Have you had anything to eat?"

"Bananas..." Vin had to think about it. "Had some bananas and milk..."

"Is that all?" she asked and Vin nodded. "Come on into the kitchen, I'll make you some lunch." She saw the hesitation. "Chris is on the porch talking with my father on the phone, and Buck is in the yard with Billy and Cowboy..."

So Vin followed her down, feeling lost in the clothes that were a little big, the jeans that dragged on the floor behind his feet, the sleeves of the cotton shirt that covered his hands.

Mary didn't turn her head, but her eyes went to the front door as they crossed the hallway, thinking about what she'd seen this morning, thinking about what she was seeing now.

"I just came from Mom and Dad's..," she said casually, over her shoulder. "They want to have Labor Day out at their place, by the lake..."

"That'd be nice..," Vin said, thinking there was no way he'd last in a large group of people, even people he knew. "It's comin' up fast, huh?"

"Weekend after next already." She kept up a line of innocuous conversation as Vin sat at the table, feeling awkward and useless, and she toasted a bagel and made scrambled eggs for him. "The last time I was out there, I got the worst sunburn, and Billy of course found the only poison ivy in the county..." Vin listened to her and made appropriate remarks, and wished he was anywhere else.

She was done in a little while and setting the plate in front of him.

"Would you like orange juice? Or we have milk, tea?"

"No, Mary - I can get it for myself. That's all right. I appreciate you takin' care of me. You must have other stuff you gotta do..." After he said it, Vin hoped it didn't sound too obvious that he wanted to be alone. But Mary smiled and rubbed a hand across his shoulders.

"Well, Chris has been busy - I have three baskets of laundry to sort and put away upstairs. You call me if you need me, okay?"

"Thanks - okay. Thanks Mary." Vin managed a smile, and she leaned down to gave him an unaccustomed kiss on the top of his head.

*/*/*/*

Vin ate slowly, mostly to give his body the chance to revolt before he'd eaten too much. Occasionally he could hear snips of Chris's phone conversation on the porch. From the tone of his voice and the little Vin could make out, Chris and the Judge were agreeing right down the line on Lucas James. Out the kitchen window he could see Billy and Cowboy running back and forth in the yard. That meant Buck was where? Not in the house, Vin hadn't heard him come back in. So he must still be outside. Maybe he could just sneak to his truck and drive home - no, Chris would see him. Besides, he didn't know where his keys were. But he could explain to Chris that he just wanted to be by himself for awhile, Chris'd understand. 'Course, he had to wait for Chris to get off the phone to tell him that. Maybe he could just go lay down again for awhile, wait for Chris to come looking for him.

That seemed like a workable plan. Vin finished his lunch and put his dishes in the sink. Just then, seeing Billy race across the landscape, Vin suddenly thought of Maria. Suddenly he had to know.

Forgetting that he intended to never have another conversation with Buck, much less be in the same ten square feet of space, Vin went through the family room and out the sliding doors. Buck was sitting on the top step of the deck, facing away.

"_Buck_?" his voice sounded so anxious, Buck jumped to his feet as he turned.

"You okay?" he asked, just as anxious.

"Is Maria all right?" The only concern Vin had right now. "When you talked to her yesterday, she seem okay? She was pretty upset Friday."

"She's fine - worried about you. But fine from Friday. You know, she's a real pretty girl."

Vin gave him a glare, his own assortment of physical and emotional distress forgotten for the moment.

"You might want to hold onto that thought for the next ten years Bucklin, so's I don't have to beat the snot out of you..."

Buck smiled at his friend - scrawny to start with, nursing broken ribs and a cracked spine, and going through hell - threatening him with physical violence to protect Maria.

"She's a sweet kid," he went on. "Thinks the world of you, her parents do too. And not just 'cause you took care of her on Friday. They were telling me you do an awful lot of good for an awful lot of people in your building."

Vin shrugged.

"They're good neighbors, good people. We help each other out."

"Well, Dr. Jekyll -"

"-Hyde-"

"_Whatever_, came by to check on Maria too when I was there. He said to tell you if you need anything, let him know. He's worried about you too...you got a lotta friends Vin. I know something like this can make you want to hide from everybody and everything. But you don't have to. We'll help you get through it." Vin nodded, and blinked, and looked away.

"I don't believe this...," Chris said as he came out onto the deck. "James' uncle is trying to buy his way back into the University..." He let out a long exasperated sigh. "I'll be glad when I see the last of both of those two...how're we doing here?" he turned his attention back to Vin. If nothing else, two hot showers within a few hours of each other were draining the color out of the bruises under his eyes.

"I'm okay," Vin said.

"Ready to hit it? Get your apartment cleaned up?" Looking at Vin, standing there in clothes that were too big, he looked even more breakable than before.

"Yeah, be good to get that taken care of..." Wasn't he going to beg off and go home alone?

"I'll head out first," Buck said. "Take one last look around 'fore we do anything permanent." What he really wanted to do was open all the windows to clear the smell of the blood before Vin got there. It was bad yesterday, it would be unbearable today.

"Sounds good," Chris told him. "Got the key inside..." They went back in the house, leaving Vin feeling suddenly shut out of his own life.

"Hey Vin!" Billy ran up to him, followed as always by the Labrador. "You want to throw the ball for Cowboy?"

"Thanks Billy, ain't quite up to it right now."

"How come you got black eyes?"

_Did they hit me between the eyes, or did they slam me against the towel bar? I don't think they kicked me, or they woulda busted my nose. _

Vin couldn't remember and he wouldn't have told Billy anyway so he resurrected his favorite standby: "I fell..."

"How come you was cryin' last night?"

The words froze Vin. "You seen that?" He searched his mind, trying to remember if he'd noticed anything. Did Billy see him when he was just upset, or crying, or when Chris held him safe?

"Yeah, but Mom told me to get back to bed. Didja have a bad dream?"

"Yeah, a really bad dream."

to be continued


	15. Chapter 15

Vin sat on the deck with his head in his hands. Billy and Cowboy streaked back and forth across the yard, alternately playing catch or tag, but he paid them no mind. He heard and felt Chris come out and sit down next to him, but he didn't lift his head. Maybe he could stay here. Maybe he didn't have to go back to his apartment just now. Chris'd understand. He'd just tell Chris that he was tired and didn't feel good, and he wouldn't have to face going back there. Sitting out here, even though he'd been talking about -_ it_ - sitting out here -_ it _- just didn't seem as real.

_It _would be real if he went back to his apartment.

He'd say he had a headache - he could feel one coming on. He was tired, his body ached, his heart pounded even thinking about going back. He had to stay here. _He had to stay here_.

"You don't have to come with, you know," Chris said. Vin looked up at him then. Into his eyes. No pity, no disgust, not even a hint that he might be uncomfortable sitting there next to Vin. Just friendship, support, and comfort. Vin saw the strength there that he needed to get through the next step of his long, painful journey back to being whole.

"I _do_ have to go with Chris. I don't go back now, I never will." Chris nodded.

"Okay. But we don't stay one second longer than you want to okay? You just let me know if you need to leave, and we're out of there."

"Okay - - thanks Chris."

*/*/*/*

Vin found his clothes, washed and dried again, neatly folded and set on the lower bunk when he went back to the guest room to get his sneakers. He shut the bedroom door and turned the lock, then eased himself out of Chris' clothes and into his own. Not that it would do any good. It didn't make him feel clean. Even taking a shower didn't make him feel clean. He'd never be clean again.

He put his shirt on and buttoned it up over the bruises and wounds, and tucked it into his jeans, before putting on his sneakers. He was about to bundle up Chris' clothes to throw in the bathroom hamper, but he slid Chris' shirt back on over his own first. It was still warm from wearing it, and it made him feel better.

*/*/*/*

Mary paused in the doorway to the kitchen. Chris was on his hands and knees, shoulder deep in the cupboard under the sink, pulling out bottles and containers, scouring pads and powder.

"Honey?" she asked and received a muffled answer. "What're you doing?" She got another muffled reply which she interpreted as "_Getting ready to go to the beach?_" and he pulled himself back onto his knees.

_"Looking for a bottle of bleach." _

Mary stared at him. "You're never doing the laundry again..."

"No - a full one. We're going over to clean up Vin's place. Wanted the bleach to clean up the blood."

"There's one in the garage," she told him. He got to his feet against the complaint in his knees.

"Never gonna forgive me for bleaching all the color out of that bedspread, are you?"

"My mother gave me that bedspread Chris." But she smiled at her husband. "Here let me get the right things together, you get the bleach and you'll probably need a bucket too..."

They gathered the supplies and Chris put them in the bed of his truck. When he went back into the house, he found Vin in the front hallway, staring at that spot on the floor.

"About ready?" Chris asked, and Vin nodded without taking his eyes off the floor.

"Sorry..." Vin whispered.

"Sorry for what?" Chris walked closer to him, as he had last night, slowly but steadily closing the distance.

"All the trouble." Still his eyes didn't leave the floor. "Making y'do my laundry, put me up for the night, having t'come over to my house and help me clean it...'spect you got better things to do on a weekend..."

"Vin - when have you known _anybody_ being able to make me do _anything_?"

That's when Vin looked up at him.

"Reckon it had to be when Mary made you wear that monkey suit to the University Christmas Party last year..," he said it flat-out serious, but a little humor briefly lit his eyes when Chris scowled at him. Then it died away. "You'd tell me, wouldn't you? If I got to be too much trouble? You'd tell me before it got so bad that...that..." He didn't seem to know how to go on, until finally: "You wouldn't push me away would you? You'd tell me I was askin' too much of you before that, wouldn't you?"

Chris was too stunned to answer and Vin pushed on.

"I can take care of gettin' myself back together, y'know. You don't gotta do anything you don't want to. I 'preciate the help but it's nothing you've _got_ to do...you know?" He sounded almost desperate.

Chris stared at Vin another long minute, strongly resisting the urge to shake him for his mistaken fear. He wondered what Vin had ever gone through that would make him ask a question like that. Should he just say _I know_ and let it go? Not say anything at all and just get Vin headed out for the truck? Lord, what should he say?

"Of course I _have_ to help you Vin. You're my friend. I couldn't _not_ help you. It'd be like asking me to cut my hand off. Of course I have to help you - it's just part of who I am..." Now Vin stared, wide eyed and amazed, and speechless. "Okay?" Chris prodded, and was answered with one short, shaky nod.

"Okay."

*/*/*/*

Vin'd driven this route hundreds of times, but it never seemed to take so short to get to his apartment from Chris' house. He wouldn't have minded a few more red lights, a pokey driver in front of them, a traffic jam... But they tooled along pretty steady and parked in the apartment building parking lot next to Buck's big old Dodge.

"You okay?" Chris asked after he shut off the engine.

"Don't know."

"You don't have to stay..."

Vin gave Chris a tired smile.

"Yeah, I do..."

Chris pulled the supplies out of the back as Vin cautiously let himself down out of the passenger door.

"I can carry something," he offered after he shut the door, and Chris handed him the bucket with the paper towels. Chris carried a cardboard box with the bleach, scouring powder, 'scrubbing bubbles', Lysol, rags, sponges, and garbage bags. Vin stared at the assortment.

Seemed like every single part of recovering from this nightmare had to do with getting clean.

They turned to walk to the front door then, Chris kept Vin between himself and the building. He scouted the area for people - he had the description of Vin's attackers from Buck. If he laid eyes on them, they were dead. It didn't matter if he had to follow them to hell. They were dead.

As they walked along, Vin listened to the sounds drifting down from the street festival. He really wanted to go this year, but now he couldn't imagine ever going. Too many people. Too much confusion. _They_ could be anywhere. Maybe he should start thinking of moving again, maybe to a different city even, where nobody knew. He couldn't imagine carrying this pain for the rest of his life, on display where everybody who knew what happened could see it. Move somewhere nobody else knew, and he could keep the pain and the shame hidden.

He looked up to his apartment windows as they rounded the front of the building. Buck had both windows open and a fan on in one.

"Must be hot inside," Chris said - though he knew it was to blow the smell out - and Vin just nodded and pulled open the front door, and they went inside.

to be continued


	16. Chapter 16

Every step up the staircase took more and more out of Vin, till finally he stopped altogether on the landing, halfway up. From where they stood, they could see the door to his apartment, cracked open a few inches. Vin stared at it, catching his breath.

"Don't you have an elevator in this building?" Chris finally said.

"Gettin' old?" Vin had to ask. He knew Chris was asking for his sake.

"Reckon I must be - got old friends..," Chris shot back and Vin had to smile at the play in the words.

"Not much more to go," he said. "If either of us collapses, Buck can just come and carry us."

Vin passed the bucket to his other hand, and hung onto the banister as he climbed the final dozen steps. He stopped just at the door and let Chris go first.

Good thing he had the pail - he felt like he was going to be sick.

Still holding the box of cleaning supplies, Chris pushed the door open with his shoulder. He expected to be hit with the smell of blood, instead, the apartment was filled the unmistakable scent of Lestoil.

"Buck?" he called, when he didn't see his friend.

"_Visitin' the necessaries_...," Buck called back, and appeared around the bathroom door. "Got some water and cleanser soaking on the wall and floor in here, just takin' down the medicine chest. Figure on going to the hardware store, buy another one...might have to repaint or repaper the bathroom too..." He said then called over Chris' shoulder, "Hey Vin...long time no see..." though it'd been an hour or so.

"Hey Buck...," Vin answered, but his eyes traveled over his plundered front room. Books, letters, CDs, littered the little room. More fractures of his life, tossed everywhere, broken, trampled, dirtied. He'd never get it all back together.

"Where do you want to start?" Chris asked as he took the pail from Vin. He'd given the other supplies to Buck. Vin shook his head and swallowed hard.

"Don't know - I don't know." They'd touched his possessions, their fingerprints were on his belongings. "Gotta pick up this mess..." _They_ were still in this room.

"Buck's got the bathroom under control...I'll take a run through the kitchen then come back and help you, okay?"

"Yeah..." Vin felt Chris move away. He turned and walked to the bathroom. Buck had the door half closed, and Vin tried to see it now through their eyes, what they saw, when they broke into his life. He pushed the door gently with an index finger and found Buck crouched next to the tub, his feet on a square of cardboard in the middle of a Lestoil puddle, scrubbing the wall with a huge sponge. The once white and floral ugly wall paper was now pink and orange and floral ugly wall paper. Vin saw that Buck wore latex gloves.

"Don't got any disease I know of..," Vin said quietly. Buck looked up at him. He knew what Vin meant, but he hadn't put the gloves on for any other reason than habit.

"I was hopin' this wasn't all _your_ blood."

"It is..." Vin took a long look around and let out a sigh. "Place needed redecoratin' anyway I reckon." Unconsciously, he put his hand up to hold Chris' borrowed shirt closed at the neck. "I 'preciate you helpin' me. Don't think I coulda done it on my own." His voice had no spirit or strength.

"Well I'm glad to help you Vin. Means a lot to me that you let me. Know it can't be easy for you right now, havin' people around you. Means a lot to me."

Vin nodded, and blinked, and backed out of the bathroom. "Gotta pick up the mess in the front room," he said.

"Well, give a shout if you need a hand."

"Okay."

Vin turned and walked back through the kitchen/dinette, past Chris who was re-stocking the onion salt and pepper containers in the cupboard. He stared down at the browning bloody foot prints he'd left on the carpet.

"I'll take care of those soon as I'm finished here," Chris said.

"Okay..."

Vin followed the trail with his eyes, all the way to the door. The door was shut now, still he had to walk past it to get to the front room. Then the door would be between him and Chris and Buck. And if the door opened and if they came in, they would be between him and his friends. And if _they_ got between him and his friends...

"_Chris?_" They stood less than five feet apart, but the urgency in Vin's voice brought Chris right to him. Even Buck was out of the bathroom in an instant.

"You okay?" Chris asked.

"You help me? Come with me?" Vin's voice shook. "Come with me in the front room?"

"Sure, come on..." With a gentle hand on Vin's back, Chris turned and exchanged a look with Buck. They didn't fault Vin for being scared. "We'll get everything picked up. Come on..."

Chris started picking up books and lining them back up on the shelf next to the front windows. Vin carefully set himself down on his knees to gather his CDs, jewel cases, and liner notes together. A lot of the CDs were cracked or visibly scratched, a lot of the cases were broken, and a lot of the liner notes were shredded beyond repair. Vin couldn't help another long sigh.

"Lose a lot?" Chris asked.

"Looks like..." He made piles, triaging the mess into _OK, maybe,_ and _dead._

_They_ had touched these. _They_ were still in this room.

The corner of a jewel case stuck out from under the couch and Vin put his hand into the narrow space to retrieve it, but his fingers touched something else and he pulled it out. He stared at it and tears filled his eyes. He slowly eased himself off his aching knees to sit with his aching back against the couch. _Damn._

"Vin?" Chris saw his face, but couldn't see what he held in his hands. "What is it?"

"_My Dad...,_" Vin said, and Chris couldn't believe that the high, pained voice belonged to his friend. He came to Vin's side again to see, to help, but as soon as he got close enough he knew there was nothing he could do. Vin's hand held a small shattered frame that held a desecrated picture of his father - eyes punched out and teeth blackened.

"God, Vin..." But what could Chris say that wouldn't make it hurt worse?

"How could they?" Vin asked, distraught. He leaned his head up, eyes squeezed shut, trying hard not to cry. "_How could they?_" He couldn't stop the tears, couldn't stop the agonized moan that escaped past the suffocating pressure on his heart. "_Not my Dad..."_

"Vin - it's okay." What was okay? Not the picture, not the circumstances - what then? What was okay? Chris set himself next to Vin and put his arm around him. "We can get it fixed."

"_No you can't._" Chris knew it was true.

"We'll try. We'll do something." He was desperate to make it better. "It'll be okay Vin, honest. We'll do something."

"No, you can't." Vin hugged the remains of the framed photograph to his chest and bent his head over it. "It'll never be okay." Chris held him tighter and wanted to just fold him into a hug that pushed everything else away, but he didn't know if it would embarrass Vin in front of Buck, and he'd already suffered enough embarrassment in the past few days to last him ten lifetimes.

So Chris kept his arm around Vin, and put his other hand over the shaking hand that held the splintered wooden frame and ruined photograph close. "It will be okay Vin. I promise. Whatever it takes, I promise you it will be okay."

to be continued


	17. Chapter 17

After awhile, Vin's back hurt too much to stay sitting on the floor. As much as he wanted to stay in the comforting safety of Chris' arm, he shifted slightly - "I gotta stand up," - and Chris helped him to his feet. He kept the picture of his father pressed close over his heart and walked toward the bathroom with slow, shuffling steps. Chris was behind him and Buck was in front of him, so he was safe.

"Buck?" he said as he got to the half-closed door. His voice was dead. "Can I get in here a minute?"

"Sure." Buck pulled open the door, he held the mop in one hand, and set it down in the bucket. "Careful, floor's still damp."

"Yeah." Vin didn't look up as they passed each other. When he shut the door behind himself, Buck walked into the frontroom.

"He's not lookin' too good," he said to Chris, keeping his voice down.

"No, he's not. They messed up a photograph of his Dad..."

"_Bastards..._" Buck didn't even try to disguise his anger. "Not enough what they did to _him_..." He looked at the jumble of broken CDs at his feet and bent to start picking them up. "Look at this..." Chris got a paper bag from the kitchen and they collected the bits and pieces.

Vin stood a few moments in the bathroom, looking around. Buck had stripped the wall nearly bare of wallpaper, and the medicine chest sat in the tub. All its meager possessions had been transferred to the sink. The tiny room looked different to Vin, as though he'd never set foot in there before. But the echo of taunts and threats reverberated around him and the room started to spin. He caught himself on the sink and shut his eyes against the dizziness, waiting for it stop or at least slow down so he could use the bathroom then go lay down for a while.

"I got the medicine cabinet off the wall," Buck was saying, his anger dissipated into a weariness. "Ended up ripping most of the wall paper off, couldn't get all the blood to come off. Figured it'd just be easier to start fresh." Just then Vin came out of the bathroom, and Buck turned to tell him the same thing. "I know it looks bad in there now Vin, but we'll get it all done up again, real nice."

"Okay." Same dead voice. He couldn't care either way. "I think I might -" But his words were interrupted by a knock on the door and his eyes flew open in sudden panic. Buck motioned Chris to go to Vin, and he approached the door, his gun hand reaching for the snub nose holstered on the back of his belt.

"_Yeah_?"

"Buck? It's Josiah." All three men let out sighs of relief and Buck opened the door to let in their friend. "You expecting somebody else?" Josiah asked when he saw where Buck's other hand was resting.

"Policeman's always on duty, you know that Josiah...same as a priest." Buck stepped back to let Josiah pass, then gave a quick glance up and down the hallway before shutting the door.

In the brief flash of time it took to turn his eyes toward Chris standing protectively in front of Vin, between the bathroom and bedroom doors, Josiah took in everything.

"Vin, heard you weren't feeling well, thought I'd come by, see if there's anything I can do."

Chris moved forward first, sensing that Vin would follow.

"I'm doin' okay," Vin finally answered as he did take a few steps to not be too far away from Chris. "Who - who'd you hear it from?" _Who knew? Who was talking? Who did he have to look out for now?_

"Well, JD mentioned it after I said Mass this morning, and then Ezra called me and said you were hurt bad enough to make Chris talkative..."

Vin turned a worried look to Chris, wondering what exactly he'd been _talkative_ about.

"Told 'em yesterday that you fell...," Chris answered Vin's unspoken question.

"I'm thinking you musta had a little help in that department," Josiah said. "Somebody hurt you, didn't they?" He kept his voice gentle and comforting. "Got yourself coupla nice shiners there."

As he spoke, Josiah closed the distance between himself and Vin. Chris moved off slightly then and Vin didn't follow, he let Josiah get close to him.

"What have you got there?" Josiah asked of the wooden frame still held close.

"My Dad...," Vin told him. How to explain it? "They ransacked..." but then Vin could do nothing more than turn the horror to him. Josiah took the small frame in his hand and gazed on it a few moments.

"This is bad Vin," he finally said. "You have another picture of your Dad, don't you? You keep in your room?" Vin nodded. "I think you'll feel better if you have a sound picture to hold onto, don't you? Can I get it for you?" Vin nodded again and Josiah smiled. "Thanks." before moving the few more feet into Vin's bedroom. After a moment's hesitation, Vin followed him in and shut the door.

"It's the voice," Buck said. "Makes you feel like you're wrapped up in a quilt and laid to rest in a feather bed."

The hinged double frame sat on Vin's dresser, one side a picture of his mother, the other side his father. Thank God neither picture had been touched. Josiah lifted it and gently handed it to Vin.

"Guess they didn't get this far." He said.

Vin pressed these pictures just as tight to his chest, and held his free hand out for the destroyed photo.

"Can I hold onto this Vin? See what I can do to repair it?" Vin had to think about it a moment or two.

"Okay..." He used his free hand to hold Chris' shirt closed at his neck. "Josiah? You do me a favor?"

"Of course Vin, anything."

"I wanna go to confession."

"Here?" Josiah looked around the small room, tidy in a disorganized way.

"Yeah...I wanna do it now." Vin made sure he met Josiah's eyes. "You'll hear my confession won't you?"

"Of course I will, come over here and sit down." They sat together on the unmade bed. Vin put his heels on the metal bedframe and rested his elbows on his knees.

"This still counts as private, right? Confidential and all that. Right?" Vin asked.

"Seal of confession - still counts," Josiah assured him.

"Well, umm.." Without the darkness, grate, and relative privacy of an actual confessional, Vin felt a little shy of starting. Josiah seemed to realize this.

"Why don't you just tell me what's on your mind Vin...that'll work just as well as the formal way..."

"Okay...umm...the last time I went to confession was around about Easter...I missed Mass a couple times since then. I had a headache the one time but I think I coulda gone to Mass anyway, and the other time I knew I was gonna have to work that Sunday, but I didn't do anything about making it to Church the night before..." Then he said nothing more.

"Is that all?" Josiah asked, not unkindly.

"Well...I swore at a lady who cut me off in traffic last Fourth of July...Josiah? I did something really bad...I don't think maybe confession'll cover it." His voice shook.

"Of course it will Vin. The only sin God can't forgive is the sin we aren't sorry for..." He put his hand on Vin's shoulder. "...tell me what happened..."

to be continued


	18. Chapter 18

"They've been in there awhile," Buck said, as he put the finishing touches on a deadbolt lock on Vin's front door. The apartment was all picked up and put away as best as they could do. Chris was scrubbing at the carpet, and didn't respond.

"_Chris_?" A little more loudly.

"What?" Chris asked, his mind clearly somewhere else.

"What d'you think is goin' on in there?"

"Talking." Chris shook his head and continued scrubbing. "All I can hear is talking."

"Vin sound like he's holding up?"

"Can't tell...just voices..."

*/*/*/*

Another half hour passed before Josiah came out of Vin's bedroom, closing the door behind himself. By now everything that could be cleaned had been cleaned, trash taken to the dumpster, and shattered medicine chest stowed in the bed of Buck's truck. Chris and Buck sat on either end of the sofa, tired and resting. Josiah came to stand before them.

"The boy's been through quite a bit the past few days," he said. He spoke softly, to keep Vin from hearing.

"He's got a lot more to get through yet," Buck answered.

"Is he okay?" Chris asked. He got to his feet, intending to go to Vin.

"I don't know," Josiah admitted. "He's got more questions than even I have answers to..."

"What kinda questions?" Buck asked.

"Oh - like why did it happen. Did he let it happen..."

"I already told him he didn't '_let'_ it happen," Chris insisted.

"Well that's good Chris. But he's probably gonna need to hear it quite a few more times before he believes it. He blames himself for being in the shower when they broke in..." Josiah paused before saying the next, though he had Vin's permission to tell Chris and Buck what they'd talked about. "He says he doesn't feel like a man anymore, like he doesn't deserve to be around us, any of his friends..."

"That's just plain foolishness," Chris said.

"It ain't foolishness to him, Chris," Buck said. He stood as well, stretching the weariness out of his shoulders. "What should we do, Josiah? What _can_ we do?"

Josiah looked around the apartment.

"I'd say you're doing it. Just being here for him. Just being his friends. Not treating him like pariah. I told him, if he wants, if it gets too hard for him, I can recommend a psychologist who -"

"Vin doesn't need a shrink," Chris spat out, but keeping his voice down. "He's got his friends. He doesn't need some stranger poking around his brain, making him feel worse." His anger took Josiah by surprise, but instead of reacting to the outburst, he just nodded once.

"Vin feels safe with you Chris, he told me that. He doesn't know why you've stood by him through this. Either of you -" he included Buck in his statement. "But he's grateful that you are."

That tempered Chris' anger some. He shoved his hands into the back pockets of his jeans and kicked at nothing on the floor. Buck sighed and pulled his keys out of his back pocket.

"Well, I'm headed to the hardware store, get a new cabinet...anything else you think he needs?" he asked Chris.

"No, don't think so..." Chris looked around.

"Okay...Josiah, feel like a trip? Maybe y'got a blessing for new bathroom mirrors?" They headed for the door.

"I'm sure I could come up with something..."

When they left and shut the door, the room became dully silent, even the whir of the fan in the window sounded hollow somehow. The apartment was put back together, but still had that tattered look of something not quite right. After a minute or so, Chris took his hands out of his pockets and walked to the bedroom.

He tapped on the door, and heard a very muffled "_Hmm_?" That was all the response he got, so he opened the door just enough to peer around to the bed. Vin lay on his side, still clutching the picture frame, still holding Chris' shirt closed at the neck. His eyes were closed, but he opened them slowly as he turned to the door. Maybe he'd been crying, Chris couldn't tell. But he looked exhausted.

"I was gonna make some lemonade, that OK? You want some?"

"...'kay. Kinda thirsty anyway." Vin started to push himself off the mattress.

"I'll bring it in here...," Chris offered.

"Naah, I'll come out there." Vin didn't ask for help, and Chris didn't offer, but he stood nearby till Vin was on his feet. "Where'd they go?" he asked when they walked out into the little dining room.

"Hardware store, get you another medicine chest," Chris told him as he hunted up the supplies and started to make lemonade.

"No, they shouldn't do that - I shoulda give 'em some money first. They can't be doing that." He set himself in a kitchen chair. He did it slowly and carefully, but caught his breath in pain, and bent over his crossed arms, trying to hold on through it.

"Vin?" Chris came to him, crouched down in front of him, trying to see his face. "What is it?"

"_Hurts_," Vin forced out through clenched teeth. "Just..._hurts_..."

"What hurts?" Chris asked, then realized what he might be asking. "I mean - is it - do you need - do you think - ?" and even Vin had to laugh at his embarrassment, though the sound was high and gasped out. He put his hand on Chris' shoulder and leaned closer, almost resting his head against Larabee.

"It's...okay...Chris..._everything_ hurts..."

Chris felt how hard Vin's fingers dug into his shoulder, the white knuckle grip he kept on the picture frame. "You need your painkillers? You got 'em with you?"

"M-m-y sh-shirt pocket - _don't leave_...," he added abruptly when Chris started to stand. "Just...let me..." He panted short breaths, trying to outlast the pain. Finally it eased enough that he could sit back and open his eyes. "S-s-sorry," he said, pulling his hand off Chris' shoulder, back to the neck of his shirt.

"Don't be sorry - you okay now? You wanna take a painkiller now?" and all Vin could do was nod. Chris brought him back a glass of lemonade and took the bottle out of Vin's shirt pocket. "How many?"

"As many as I've got left," Vin said, which got him a scowl. "Two - whatever - I don't know. It says on the label." Chris handed him two tablets and recapped the bottle to tuck back in Vin's pocket.

Vin took the medicine, and drank most of his lemonade, and Chris poured him some more. Then he poured some for himself and sat in the chair diagonal to Vin.

"Better?" he asked, hopefully.

"Soon, I reckon..." A few deep breaths, eyes closed, and everything seemed to ease. "Feel like I got caught under a steam roller..." He opened his eyes again and saw past Chris to his front room. "Hey, y'got it all straightened up?"

"Best as we could...Buck put a deadbolt on your door."

"Sure - _now_..." but his voice wavered. "So - how's things at school?" Though he knew the latest, and Chris hadn't heard anything more since coming to Vin's apartment.

"Well..." Chris shook his head and let Vin turn the conversation. "The Judge says he wouldn't have Lucas James back on a bet, but his uncle is making noise about lawyers and wrongful termination...I tell you - tomorrow I'll be walking into a disaster."

"Yeah..." Vin took a swallow of lemonade. "Guess I'm on waivers, hunh?"

"Only if you want. I need you back as soon as you're ready. Desk duty - but I need you to help me through this mess. You know Groundskeeping _and_ Maintenance. Who does what, what needs to be done, what can wait. Soon as you're ready, I need you back."

"Okay..." Vin seemed to think about it. "Just to let you know though - I'm calling in sick tomorrow..."

"I'll make a note of that." Chris smiled, till he saw Vin's eyes and the pain that flashed across them.

"Josiah said it wasn't my fault," Vin said quietly.

"It wasn't."

"Told him he could tell you he knows - he wouldn't have otherwise. Confession and everything. He said I shouldn't despair."

"No - you shouldn't." Chris leaned toward Vin, letting his elbows rest on his knees.

"Hard not to. This is something - ain't like getting mugged, or hit by a car. This is - every single bit of the rest of my life. Y'know I can never donate blood again? If I ever got married, my wife could never donate blood. I gotta worry about what disease I mighta been exposed to, what might crop up ten years from now. And if anybody ever finds out at school - I couldn't bear that, Chris. To have people whispering about me, talking about me." He started talking faster. "I know what they'll say. What they'll be thinking. Hell, I'd be thinkin' the same thing if it wasn't me...I couldn't bear that."

"No one will know. Nathan and Rain couldn't - _wouldn't_ - say anything. It'll be all right."

Vin shook his head a little, but didn't say anything. He pulled the picture frame away from his chest to look at the photographs. "Miss 'em," he said after awhile. "Guess I'm glad though they ain't here...can't see telling 'em what happened."

"Your Dad would understand," Chris said.

"I don't know. I hope he would, but I don't know...don't know why you're still here..."

"We're friends and you still owe me five dollars from the Stanley Cup." Chris waited to see Vin's reaction. Either he didn't think it was funny, or his brain was taking a long time to turn it over; he watched Chris a minute.

"_No goal_," he finally said, resurrecting an old argument. "...m'tired...gonna lay down on the couch."

"Sure, c'mon." Chris stood and helped Vin to his feet.

"Carpet looks good," Vin said as he made his way to the couch. He sounded tired.

"I'm glad _somebody_ appreciates my housekeeping skills," Chris told Vin, and gently helped him to sit on the couch.

"Told you Chris - shoulda just bought another bedspread and not told Mary anything about it..." He eased himself into the pillows and cushions, keeping the picture of his parents close. "If you'd just listened to me..." his voice trailed off.

"Next time I'll listen Vin..." Chris went back to Vin's room for a blanket, watching to see if he minded being left alone even for that short a time. He seemed to be asleep though, and Chris spread the light cover over him.

"_Don't leave_," a soft voice asked.

"I won't."

to be continued


	19. Chapter 19

Nettie left her house and hurried to Vin's. She'd barely hung up the phone with Mary when she was out the door and down the sidewalk. Mary had said that Chris and Buck were with Vin, but Nettie didn't care if all six of the boys were with him, she was going to see how he was. She hadn't been encouraged any by what Mary told her either - last night Vin'd been heartbroken. Today he was pale and skittish. Thank the Lord Larabee was staying with him through it. For herself, Nettie knew she'd rather die - even rather that Casey died - than suffer what Vin had.

But Vin had survived, and now Nettie needed to make sure for herself that he was all right, physically if nothing else. She had to see him in person to ease her mind.

She took the steps up to his apartment two at a time. She had horrible visions of him, cowed and broken, hardly able to function. After something like this - it was bad enough for a woman, but for a man? God have mercy.

The first thing she saw was the new keyed lock on the door. Expecting the worst, Nettie knocked - a little too insistently. She waited all of three seconds and was about to knock again when she heard somebody inside fumbling with all three locks. Chris by the low growl of his exasperation.

Finally the door opened and Nettie only barely held herself back from pushing right in past the wall of Larabee. "How is he?" she asked instead. Chris had pale circles under his eyes, and looked like he'd just woken up. He cleared his throat to answer, and gestured over his shoulder to the couch, as he stood aside to let her in.

"Sleepin'."

And Nettie took four steps into the front room, stopping to stare at the still form, sleeping quietly under a blanket on the couch. Vin's head was down, pressed into the overstuffed arm and throw pillows, and she couldn't see his face.

"How is he?" she asked again, whispered now, turning back to Chris.

"He's fine Nettie...a couple broken ribs, black eyes...he's fine."

Nettie heard Chris use that smooth, reassuring tone that always meant he was telling the truth on a serious matter. Chris didn't know that she knew. She looked at Vin again. "I hate to wake him up..." She said. Chris rubbed the back of his neck and headed for the kitchen.

"Want some lemonade?"

*/*/*/*

Vin was only barely awake when he heard the voices. Another split second and fear shoved him completely awake, keeping him frozen where he lay. Whose voices? What were they saying? He listened for the sound of household destruction, harsh laughter and salacious threats. What he heard was Nettie telling Chris about the first time she'd met Vin, early in January of that year.

"I don't know who was bigger - Vin or that bear of a dog who'd gotten loose. Broke the fence down Betty told me, and he was still just a pup. Draggin' poor Vin through a blizzard nearly, going door to door to find his owner. Past dark, near zero out. I didn't even have the chance to invite the boy in - the dog knew me and dragged him in, snowflakes and all..."

Then quiet laughter and Vin relaxed again, as much as he could, knowing he'd have to face Nettie or spend the rest of his life pretending to be asleep. At least the apartment was cleaned up and mostly presentable. Nettie was the kind of lady didn't like a thing out of place. Not a cup, not a book, not a thimble. She'd _tsk'd _so many times and _picked up_ so many times that Vin still couldn't find his favorite coffee cup or the good long spoon he liked to use to make his chocolate milk.

Good thing Chris and Buck had cleaned up, or he probably wouldn't even be able to find the carpet.

He listened again, and didn't hear Buck or Josiah, so they were probably still out at the hardware store. Vin wanted to be up and awake before they got back again, so slowly he pushed himself up, letting the blanket fall away. He scrubbed the sleep and sweat off his face and scratched his fingers through his hair.

"Vin?" Two voices nearly simultaneously, two chairs pushed back.

"Last I checked..." He stood up, he wanted to be on his feet in front of Nettie, but his knees ached, and it hurt his back to straighten all the way.

"Honey - how are you?" Nettie asked, and Vin put one hand out automatically to keep her from touching him. Everything hurt, and he knew he wouldn't be able to stand so much as a gentle hug from her. Nettie stopped, and Vin could see her take in everything, his black eyes, slumped shoulders, picture frame still held close. Chris stood just behind her.

"I'm okay Nettie. Seem to be sleepin' a lot since I whacked my head, but Nathan -" and he had to swallow the shame he felt remembering, " - patched me all back up." Was she buying it?

"But how are you honey?"

"I'm okay." He briefly glanced at Chris, wanting a rescue before the whole conversation went too far. He couldn't remember what he'd told Nettie. Did he just tell her he fell, or that he'd been beaten? What did Mark Twain say? _'Always tell the truth, then you don't have to remember anything' _

"We were just having some lemonade...," Chris offered. "Want some?"

"Okay..." Vin moved past Nettie, trying not to shrink from touching her, even accidentally. "It's still hot, even with the fan going..."

"Well, honey..." Nettie followed him to the kitchen. "Maybe if you weren't wearing two shirts..."

Vin looked at her. Pain crossed his face and his hand stole up to close the neck of his borrowed shirt. He didn't say anything but flushed dark, and turned his eyes to the floor, ashamed. He felt safer, he felt better, wearing Chris' shirt when he put it on at Larabee's house, but now it just felt stupid. Should just stand on his own. He decided to take the extra shirt off.

Then he felt Chris' hand on his shoulder, squeezing hard and he looked up into an understanding face. "You should keep it on," Chris told him. "You been cold most of yesterday and today..." Vin nodded, and felt better, and kept the extra shirt on.

Outside the door, they heard footsteps and voices.

"Comin' in," Buck announced, knocking loudly. Chris went to turn the locks, and Buck came in carrying a large cardboard box under one arm, and toolbox in the other hand. Josiah followed with plastic bags of wallpaper and supplies.

"What in the world have you got going here?" Nettie asked. Chris took a bag from Josiah and the toolbox from Buck and led the way to the bathroom.

"Just a little redecoratin', Miss Nettie...," Buck told her, smiling as he walked past her. Vin backed away from their path, a foot or so into the kitchen, into the tiny floor space between the stove and the sink. "Hope you like our choices Vin. Josiah and me nearly had words over the wallpaper..."

"Fortunately, wiser heads prevailed," Josiah said. "Nettie...," he greeted her in passing. "So you won't be blinded by neon seashells whenever you use your bathroom."

"It's a bathroom..." Buck continued their argument from inside the very room. "Y'know - _water_? _Sea? Sea shells...?" _

*/*/*/*

Nettie watched the four men. Chris came out of the bathroom and stood near Vin. She could see that Vin was more relaxed among his friends. He smiled at the dispute still rumbling over the wallpaper, shared an amused look with Chris, and shook his head. He dropped his hand off the collar of his shirt, and let the picture frame - that she recognized as the one holding his parents' pictures - slide down to his side. But when she took a step or two towards him, she plainly saw Vin tense up again.

"Well, honey. Y'seem like you're in good hands. Just wanted to make sure you were okay. Call me if you need anything, all right?"

"I will, Nettie." Vin had to remind himself to breathe, let alone answer her.

"Good." She wanted to wrap him in hug and never let go, but it hurt her just to watch him standing there in pain. "See me to the door?" She regretted saying that as soon as she saw the panic fill his eyes. But he nodded again, and walked with her to the front door.

"You let the boys take care of you, honey. They're good men, and they care about you."

"I know, Nettie. I will."

"Okay." Instead of the hug, she put her hand on his arm and leaned up to kiss his cheek. "Call me later on, let me know how you're doing."

"I will."

With a brief, "_See you boys..."_ called to the others, Nettie opened the door and left.

Vin couldn't get the door shut or the locks turned fast enough once she was gone.

to be continued


	20. Chapter 20

Of the four of them, only Chris and Josiah had ever hung wallpaper, so the task of re-papering the bathroom fell to them. Buck took the medicine chest back into the front room to get it out of its cardboard box, sitting on the floor with it between his knees, making sure all the necessary parts were there.

Vin paced.

First he stood at the end of his dinette table, watching Chris and Josiah measure the walls and mark the straight edge in the bathroom. He cleared the table of the glasses and pitcher of lemonade in case they needed to work there. Then, feeling like the little space would be too crowded if three of them needed to stand there, he went into the front room and stood a moment in front of Buck.

"You need help?" Hoping the answer would be 'yes'.

"Not right now. Soon's the old guys are done in there, we'll get this up in a shake."

"Okay." Vin walked past, to the front window. He looked out for a second, but was afraid of seeing _them_, so he turned away again. There was an empty spot on the top shelf of his bookshelf, and he set the double frame of his parents' pictures there.

Then he adjusted it a little.

Then he lifted it up to brush the dust away and set it back down.

Then adjusted it again.

Then picked it back up and held it close again.

He walked to the kitchen and looked around but found nothing more to do there, so he walked back to the front window for a second, standing in front of the fan. He turned around - and nearly right into Buck who had stood up behind him.

"Seem a might restless," Buck observed. When Vin looked down and turned away, Buck turned with him. "Wanna take a walk or something? Go for a drive, get some air?"

Over Vin's still bowed head, he saw Chris stop his work to watch was going on, till Buck nodded that everything was okay.

"My house," Vin said. "I should be doing something. Didn't clean up anything, didn't wash the floor or clean up the bathroom. Didn't - didn't even pay for the cabinet or the wallpaper. My house - should be doing _something_."

"Well yeah," Buck improvised quickly. "Soon's the old guys are done with the wallpaper, we're putting up the cabinet."

Vin looked up at him like he wanted to believe him, but didn't quite.

"_Don't mean to take advantage..._" The words were barely whispered out.

"You're _not_ taking advantage Vin." Buck tried to think of an analogy that didn't throw the attack back at Vin. "C'mon, if you'd been hit by a truck, you wouldn't be standing there saying you shoulda taken yourself to the hospital or set your own broken bones..." But this was Vin he was talking about. "Then again, you probably would. You probably woulda put the stitches in yourself if you coulda reached..."

A frown crossed Vin's face and Buck put a hand on his shoulder to give him a friendly shake.

"So it means a whole lot to us that you _are_ letting us help. I know it couldna been easy for you to ask Chris for help, to talk to Josiah, or to know that I know what happened. We're proud to be your friends Vin, and what happened doesn't change that. Not one bit."

"Feel like I let the side down," Vin said. "Like I should apologize to you, to all you fellas for lettin' it happen -"

"You didn't _let it_ happen," Buck interrupted him, trying hard to keep the aggravation out of his voice that Vin's words raised. Still, he could see that he'd shut Vin down. Whatever he'd been saying or wanting to say had been pulled behind a wall. "I know they might've said you were 'asking for it' Vin, they might've even made you say it. That don't make it true."

"Shoulda made them kill me 'fore I let them touch me."

This time Buck held his words until he could let his aggravation out in a calm breath. "You survived Vin. Surviving is everything. Survivin' is what gives you the time to sort everything else out."

"...'_everything else_' hurts," Vin said, his own aggravation sounding in his voice.

"I know it does Vin." Buck's voice was gentle now, and Vin watched him, wanting Buck to make sense of it for him. "Vin -" he put his hands on Vin's shoulders. "If you'd been walking down the street, and pulled Maria out of the path of a truck, then that truck drove right up onto the sidewalk to run you down because of it - yeah, everything would still hurt. I know you'd be going over every tiny little detail in your mind, over and over. Wishin' you'd seen them in time to get out of the way. Wishin' maybe that little Maria hadn't even been walking down the street right then." Buck took a breath before going on. This next part wasn't pleasant.

"But you couldn't get out of the way in time Vin, and they ran you down. And it will hurt, probably for a long time. Every bump and bruise and broken bone feeling like they're screaming at you for not getting out of the way in time. Screaming at yourself more'n likely too, hating yourself for what you know - you just _know_ you coulda prevented if you'd just been paying better attention, or been stronger, or lived in a different neighborhood, or drove a different car or took chemistry instead of trigonometry in high school. A million different things Vin, and each one of 'em will look to you like they somehow held the key to not gettin' hurt. But you _did_ get hurt, and you _did_ survive, and surviving is _everything_."

Vin sifted all the words through his brain, Buck could tell looking at his eyes. And thank God, they seemed to be making sense to him.

"I'm scared they'll get me again," Vin told him, and Buck squeezed his shoulders harder.

_"Not while I live." _

Putting up the wallpaper, every once in a while Chris looked out to Buck and Vin. They were talking earnestly, quietly, the words muffled by the fan in the window. Buck was taller than Vin, but it was never as obvious as when they stood close together. Vin lifted his chin to meet Buck's gaze, paying close attention to everything he was saying. Chris wished he could hear what they were talking about, wanting to know what was putting such a look of fear and hope on Vin's face, and that look of concern on Buck's face that Chris hadn't seen since -

"Chris?" Josiah's voice brought him back to the work, and the length of dripping wallpaper in his hands.

"Got distracted...," he mumbled, handing the heavy paper up to Josiah, who stood on a kitchen chair next to the bathtub. "You think he'll be okay Josiah?" Chris had to ask. "Something like this - could kill a man."

"Or make a man kill himself," Josiah said and would've been dead if Chris could've killed him with a look.

"Don't say that," Chris snapped.

"Then don't think it either, Chris. Vin's got spine, and he's got friends. He's in a lot of pain, and he's got a lot to sort out, but he _is_ sorting it out. Don't compare apples to oranges, and don't borrow trouble."

"He's so young." Chris turned again to Vin and Buck. Whatever Buck was saying now was deadly serious, with a hand on each of Vin's shoulders. Whatever he was saying, Vin was staring at him as though it was the only thing left that mattered. "World shouldn't fall down on a man that young."

"No, it shouldn't." Josiah slid the wallpaper into place and smoothed it with a large sponge. "Vin's never really said, but I get the feeling the world has fallen on him one way or another a few times already in his life. When his Mom died, surely when his Dad died." He made sure the seams matched, pushed and pulled and finessed the edges into alignment.

"One thing Vin has told me Chris, is that he feels safe with you. Not just today, he's told me that almost from the day you met. Sometimes in words, sometimes not. Sometimes, like today, I can see it in the way he holds himself relaxed around you, no matter that the world _has_ fallen on him and should be crushing the life out of him."

But Chris shook his head. "I feel like I haven't done anything for him."

"You mean besides took him in when he felt he had nowhere to go. Took him to the doctor when he would've hid himself away in pain and misery. Let him tell you nearly everything they did to him in this bathroom, pour out all his heart and anguish in the small hours of morning, and still treated him like a friend despite how bad he felt about himself. Besides _that_, you mean?"

Chris chewed the inside of his lip to keep smiling from Josiah's apt assessment. "Yeah, _besides_ that."

"Selfish scoundrel, aren't you Larabee?" Josiah teased him, but added: "Don't judge this situation against one you couldn't help Chris. Just being there for Vin seems to be exactly what he needs from you right now."

to be continued


	21. Chapter 21

It didn't take long to finish hanging the wallpaper. Chris and Josiah packed up their garbage and tools, and Buck carried the new medicine cabinet in. Vin followed him, and Chris came in behind.

"Vin, let me help Buck. You shouldn't be doing any work."

"Nah, I can do it Chris." Vin's voice was soft, tired. He took a moment to look at his parents' pictures, before reluctantly handing the frame to Chris for safekeeping. "Wanna be busy, y'know? Been sittin' too long...I'll be careful," he added, when he got a look at the scowl forming on Larabee's face.

"Rain said you shouldn't be doing any lifting or bending or -"

"Yeah, well Rain ain't here." Vin tried to keep it light, but aggravation was beginning to creep in. This was _his_ home. "I know myself well enough. What I can n' can't do. I'll be careful..."

Chris must've heard the slight edge in Vin's words because he backed off.

"All right, but you let me know if you need help," he included Buck in his words as well. He walked out of the bathroom but turned in the front room to watch Buck and Vin get to work. He winced seeing Vin bend over to dig the tape measure and cordless drill and bit out of the toolbox. Then Vin raised his arms to hold one end of the tape measure, while Buck marked the spots for the new screws.

"Chris - you're so wired up you're about to spontaneously combust," Josiah told him. "He won't push himself beyond endurance."

"He might."

"Buck will watch him...Chris, Vin needs to feel in control again. He needs to feel that he has his pride back." Chris let himself be nudged further into the frontroom. But even while he looked out the windows, he kept his ears on what was going on behind him.

*/*/*/*

Buck stood on the kitchen chair, one foot on the sink, and waited for Vin to hand up the chest. It didn't weigh much, but as Vin lifted it over the sink, the sharp pain cut into his spine and he nearly dropped the cabinet, hissing the pain out involuntarily.

"I've got it," Buck told him, taking a good hold and lifting it from Vin. "_Chris?_ OK Vin, here..." He turned and easily set the cabinet back on the floor, then jumped down. Vin stood frozen, in pain, eyes squeezed shut. He was afraid to move an inch. "Are you okay?"

"What is it?" Chris was there in an instant, Josiah behind him. Vin tried to answer him but couldn't get his breath.

"It happened when he lifted the cabinet up to me."

"Is it your back?" Chris tried again. This time Vin managed to nod.

"It's okay," he gasped. "It's goin' away."

"Can you walk? Come out and sit down." Vin shook his head. It seemed to make Chris angry. "Dammit - Rain told you no lifting."

"_My house," _Vin snapped at him, finally opening his eyes to look at Chris. "I do the work in my own house."

"Not now. Not this time," Chris snapped back. "We're talking about your spine."

"_Not asking your damn permission_." If he could've taken even a step, Vin would've pushed past Larabee out of the bathroom. "I take care of myself. I take care of my own house."

"_Not when you've been hurt and you've got people to help you_."

Vin felt Buck put a hand on his shoulder when Larabee shouted at him. To protect him, or calm him, Vin couldn't tell which. It didn't matter. It didn't help.

"_My house_," Vin shouted. "_Nobody tells me what to do in my house. You leave me alone or you get out. You hear me? This is my house._" He held himself so stiff against the pain, he looked about ready to snap in half. "_Damn you to hell - this is MY HOUSE._"

Chris stared in shock for a minute. Vin stood before him enraged - in obvious agony, shaking from the pain or his passion. Or fear. That thought came through loud and clear to Chris at last. Mentally looking around himself and thinking on all that had happened in this very space, how could he blame Vin for lashing out?

"You're right," he said calmly. He didn't bother pointing out that he was only trying to help, only trying to spare Vin more pain and injury. He realized he should be trying to spare the man his dignity. "I'm sorry..." He turned to leave the bathroom, muttering "I've got to get something out of my truck. I'll be back..."

Josiah moved out of the way to let Chris get past him, reaching out to lay a hand on his shoulder in understanding. Chris nodded his thanks, handed on the picture frame, and left the apartment.

He wasn't going to his truck, he sat on the stair just above the landing. He wanted a few minutes to settle his anger. Anger at himself, at Vin, at the criminals who'd hurt his friend. He had to keep focused on this situation, on what was happening today. But he found himself thinking about Stephen, and those last days when his brother-in-law seemed so lost and so unhappy. If he could only go back in time and change one thing, just one thing, he'd just be there for Steve. That's all he wanted to do for Vin now. Be there for him, take care of him.

"Mr. Larabee?"

He almost didn't hear the small voice. He turned to find Maria on the top stair behind him. She glanced a little anxiously over her shoulder at Vin's door, then walked the few steps down to Chris. He'd met her more than once when he'd been here to Vin's place.

"Hi Maria - how are you?"

"Nettie called Mom and said Vin was home..." She ignored his question. "I was gonna stop by and see him but -" she looked over her shoulder again. "I heard him yellin'...it's my fault isn't it?" She turned back to Chris. "That he got hurt? Because he protected me?"

"No Maria..." Chris shook his head and patted the stair next to himself, waiting for the girl to sit down. "Those boys, those -" A dozen descriptions went through his mind, none that he could say in front of a young girl. "They hurt Vin because he protected you. But it's not your fault. He scared 'em and they had to prove that they were bigger and stronger than him, so they beat him up. They're bullies, that's all. They don't need an excuse to be mean, they just do it. It wasn't your fault."

*/*/*/*

Vin stared out at his front door long after Chris had shut it behind himself. He didn't feel any better now that he'd chased Chris away. His anger died quickly, replaced by a panic that he was alone. Never mind that Buck and Josiah stood on either side of him - Chris was gone and he was alone.

"Vin -" A gentle hand on his shoulder pushed him to sit in the kitchen chair. "Take a minute to catch your breath," Buck told him. "We'll start again in a while."

Even as he gingerly lowered himself to sitting, Vin watched the front door. _Make him come back_ he wanted to say. He had the terrible feeling that Chris was just going to get into his truck and drive away. Josiah must've read it in his face.

"I think I'll go see if Chris needs any help," he said and followed Larabee out of the apartment. When they were alone, Buck crouched in front of Vin.

"You with men Vin?" trying to get him to make eye contact. "Watching that door won't make it open any sooner."

"Didn't mean for him to leave." Vin sounded surprised.

"No, he didn't leave. He mighta took some distance, but I guarantee you, Chris ain't more'n a sharp whistle away...want me to prove it?" Buck asked when Vin looked like he doubted it.

"Nahh...I believe you..." Vin looked from Buck to the front door, then to the newly re-papered bathroom walls, and all that Buck was doing for him. "I woulda liked the neon seashells," he said.

*/*/*/*

Josiah was back in less than a minute. "Chris is sitting on your stairs there...," he said. "Think he's just getting his thoughts together."

"I should go talk to him," Vin decided. Apologize. Something. Anything. Whatever it took to make Chris not think he was too much of a burden. Anything before Chris really did leave.

"He'll be back in," Buck promised, but Vin shook his head.

"I gotta go out to him." Buck gave him a hand up, and Josiah walked with him to the door. Vin cracked the door open and took a breath to still the trembling he felt. Cautiously, an inch or less at a time, he moved into the hallway, until he could see Chris, still sitting there at the landing, and he felt safe enough to walk to him.

It wasn't until Vin was at the top step that he saw Maria sitting next to Larabee.

"Vin!" Maria was on her feet in an instant, intending to run to his side. Chris started to put his hand out, probably meaning to temper her enthusiasm, but the need to know that at least Maria was still whole suddenly overrode anything else and Vin held his arms out to her.

"Are you okay, Maria?" he had to know. She caught him in a solid hug but the pain was nothing next to knowing she was all right.

"The policeman came yesterday and said you got hurt and he said it was those boys that tried to hurt me..." she unwound her anxiety into his shirt. "...and they did it because you helped me and it's all my fault and I'd do anything to make it all better..."

"It's okay. I'm okay." He just wanted to stand there, feeling her arms around him. The one clean, innocent thing left in his life.

"No you're not. You're not okay. I can see it. They hurt you."

"I'm okay now. It's not your fault. They didn't hurt me." Somehow, saying that to her wasn't lying. Maria clung to him, coming just a few inches above his elbow. "I'm tougher than I look."

Then they didn't say anything more for a few beats of time, till finally Vin broke the hold and stood back.

"Here, let me have a look at you. You sure that you're OK too? Didn't eat too much ice cream at the Fair did you? Not without me?"

"Well..." She looked down. "...Daddy took me there Friday night and said I could have anything I wanted...and I _really like_ Mexican Sundaes..."

Vin hugged her again.

"I'm glad you did. You deserve everything you want..." He held onto her another half minute or so. "I have to talk to Chris now, but I'll see you later, okay?"

"Okay..." she nodded up to him, then smiled down to Chris before heading back to her own apartment. Vin watched till she turned a corner and he couldn't see her anymore. He felt Chris come to stand beside him.

"She's a real sweet girl," Chris said.

"Yeah, she is." Vin was grateful that they were talking to each other. "I didn't mean to yell at you..."

"I didn't mean to rile you either..."

"I can still come home with you tonight, can't I?" The real fear finally expressed. Chris scowled at him.

_"Damn right you're coming home with me." _

And Vin nodded. "Okay."

to be continued


	22. Chapter 22

There wasn't much left to be done in Vin's apartment. Chris and Buck hung the new medicine chest, and Vin let Chris help him organize his possessions onto the shelves. After that, they put up a new shower curtain.

"What d'you think?" Chris asked, as Vin stood in the doorway, looking at the work.

What did he think? What _did_ he think? No trace of blood remained on the floor, the walls, or tub. The towel bar had been rehung in its usual spot, the new medicine cabinet was a little smaller than the old one. The wallpaper was a definite improvement over the previous, and the shower curtain filled the little bathroom with the smell of fresh vinyl.

What _did_ he think?

"Looks good," he finally said. This was still the spot where _it_ had happened, where _they_ had been. _They_ were still here. "Hardly recognize the place..."

_They would always be here. _

Vin turned back toward the kitchen, where Buck and Josiah waited to take their leave. The phone rang and Buck was closest to it, so he grabbed it.

"Hello?" and after a second he gave a grin that this was friend, not foe. "Well Ezra, what number did you call? Are you sure you dialed Vin's number? And I answered? Well then, I guess I must be at Vin's place..." Buck held his laugh, but it showed in his eyes how much he enjoyed aggravating Ezra. He listened for a little while then. "I don't know, I'll ask -" he covered the mouthpiece. "Ezra - wants to know if we want to meet for dinner at Inez's. Said he's seen JD on campus and is gonna ask him. He's gonna call Nathan too." Though it was a general invitation, he directed is specifically to Vin.

"I - I - I - don't think I can - I don't -" Fear filled Vin, from the pit of his stomach all the way to back of his throat.

"Been a long day," Chris said, stopping Vin's stammering. "You should get some rest."

Vin nodded gratefully.

"I'll go," Josiah said, and Buck relayed the information to Ezra.

"Josiah n'me'll meet you there...don't let JD tell you 'no' for an answer. Naah, Chris is gettin' too old for staying up this late and Vin's gonna take him home. Okay Ez'. See you then." He hung up the phone. "Well Vin, you let us know anything else you need...don't let Chris boss y'around too much."

"Okay Buck." The fear slowly settled back down again. "I 'preciate your help. Couldna done it without you."

"Anytime - you know that," Buck's voice dropped to serious. "You need me, you call me. If I'm at work, call the station and have 'em hunt me down. Hear?"

"Yeah." Vin nodded.

"Same goes for me Vin," Josiah told him. "Anytime. Anywhere."

"I will Josiah. Thanks - for all y'said..." Vin gestured to his bedroom. "...in there... I'll try t'remember it all..."

"You do that son...I'll check on you every day okay? Just give you a phone call?"

"That'd be great Josiah, I really appreciate that. Both of you." Vin was touched by their concern. He dropped his eyes and his voice and shoved his hands deep into his pockets. "Think I might be at Chris' place - for the next couple days anyway."

"Good - keep him outta trouble." Buck put a smile into his voice to try and get one out of Vin. "Keep him outta the laundry if nothin' else."

Vin let out a sigh and did look up.

"Know anybody needs a coupla pairs of _pastel_ socks?"

"Oh - that's easy to fix," Buck said, brightly. "Let Chris wash 'em again. Sooner or later he's bound to put too much bleach in with them. They'll be good as new."

"Isn't time for you to meet Ezra for dinner?" Chris growled as the other three laughed.

"Aw Chris - her mother bought her that bedspread..," Buck said.

"Out!" Chris insisted, and the two friends left the apartment, still chuckling even as they shut the door behind themselves. "Not you too," Chris said, when he turned to see Vin trying to suppress a grin.

"Who - me?" Vin tried to feign innocence. "I grew up in the Seventies Chris. You know I love tie dye...just never seen it in khaki turquoise before..."

"Yeah - guess what you're gettin' for your birthday this year Tanner...," Chris warned. "You about ready to head out?"

"Reckon...where's my pictures? Maybe I should take some more clothes...?"

"If you want," Chris said. He handed Vin the photos of his parents. "You have another back pack or something to carry them in?"

"I got a duffel bag, bottom a'my closet..." Vin walked into his room and pulled the empty duffel bag out and sat with it on the end of his bed. He stared at his dresser a minute.

"Need some help?" Chris asked, standing in the doorway.

"How long can I stay?" Vin almost whispered. He was afraid to ask, but he needed to know.

"At my house?" and Vin nodded. "As long as you want." Chris smiled when Vin didn't. "For as long as you can stand me..." And then Vin tossed the duffel bag on the floor.

"Didn't know you were puttin' _conditions_ on it..." He felt better. Thank God he felt better. Yesterday at this time, or near it, Vin wanted nothing more than to be in a drug-induced coma. Now at least he could make jokes. The pain and shame and fear hadn't gone very far, but now, at least for now, they weren't taking up every molecule of air that he had to breathe. "Y'help me get this drawer open?"

"Sure..." Chris came in and gave it a tug. He helped Vin pack up some jeans and T-shirts, socks and underwear. "Anything else you want to bring?" Vin looked around the room.

"No, don't think so. I'll bring Mom and Dad." He indicated the frame and tucked it on top of his clothes in the duffel bag. "Guess everything else'll be okay. That new lock Buck put on the door - guess everything else'll be okay."

"It'll be okay," Chris promised him.

Vin led the way to the front door. He was thinking ahead to tomorrow. Maybe if he felt well enough, he'd go to work with Chris. At least for a little while. Help him get some things straight in Groundskeeping. He knew he should just stay home and rest, but the truth was, he felt safer around Chris. He didn't know if he'd last eight hours or more on his own, even at Chris' house. He was about to turn to Chris to suggest this as he opened the front door.

Someone was standing there.

_"SHIT!"_ Feeling like he was about to have a heart attack, Vin took a hard step backward, slamming into Chris. _Run._ Was all he could think. _Don't let them get me again._ But he couldn't think how to get past Chris. _They_ were back. _They_ were going to get him again.

"Vin?" a young voice asked, confused. Even when Vin's eyes focused and he saw that is was Maria, he couldn't stop his heart pounding against his ribs, couldn't overcome the sudden nausea that crawled up his throat. He dropped the duffel bag and pushed around Chris, heading for the bathroom before it was too late. "Vin?" Maria repeated.

"It's OK honey, you just startled him." Vin heard Chris say as he shut the bathroom door. He didn't get sick, he leaned his hands on the sink and closed his eyes, trying to calm his breathing. Prickly sweat broke out on his skin and every nerve crackled.

_Shit._

After a few minutes, Chris tapped on the bathroom door then cracked it open. "How're you doin'? You okay?"

Vin shook his head.

"Scared me."

"Yeah - scared her too..." Chris put his hand on Vin's back and gently rubbed across his shoulders. "Just breathe Vin. Take some deep breaths...it's okay..."

"_I thought it was them.._ I thought it was them and there wasn't anything I could about it." As the mental shock wore off, the physical shock took over and he trembled.

"You weren't alone, Vin."

"You won't always be there..." Fear turned his voice a higher pitch. "If it'd been them and you weren't here, they coulda done anything they wanted and there isn't one thing I could do to stop them..."

"Vin - don't think about that now."

"_Don't think about it?_" Vin wanted to turn to Chris, but he didn't want to let go of the sink. "It's my life. They'll be out there the whole rest of my life and there isn't anything I can do about it." He tried to calm his breathing again, tried to relax the muscles in his back that were cramping up, and open his eyes so he could see something other than the horror. "I have to take a shower."

"_Vin._" Now Chris' voice had the low register of concern mixed with aggravation. He spoke slowly, distinctly. "You've had two showers today already. You're not dirty. I know you feel like you are, but you aren't."

"I am. You don't know. I am."

"I _do_ know Vin. They made your _skin_ dirty, they didn't make _you_ dirty. You don't need to take another shower."

"_Please_?" Chris hated to hear the pleading in his voice. Hated that Vin felt like he needed to ask permission. He let out a breath.

"Let me take you home first. Take a shower at my place, okay? We'll have something to eat, and you'll be closer to bed...okay?"

Vin nodded and choked out: "Okay..."

to be continued


	23. Chapter 23

They got as far as the front door of the apartment building and Vin froze. He had his duffel bag of clothes, and Chris carried the box of cleaning supplies. Larabee was paying close enough attention to Vin that he barely took one more step before he realized Vin had stopped moving.

"You okay?"

"Can't - can't go out there." Vin sounded breathless.

"All right, let me bring the truck around -"

"NO! DON'T LEAVE ME!" Vin's eyes went wide at his own outburst. "I just - I can do it. I can. I just need...a minute..."

"Take as long as you need, Vin." Chris set his box down and stood closer. He couldn't just _tell_ Vin he was safe, he had to make him _feel_ it. Vin shut his eyes and bent his head down to the duffel bag. He seemed to be trying to control his breathing.

"Y'ever been scared - so scared - in your whole adult life - so scared that y'couldn't breathe?" Vin asked.

"Oh yeah, been so scared I could see my heart pounding against my ribs."

"What'd you do? With being that scared?" Vin opened his eyes to look at Chris.

"What'd I do with it?" Chris unwillingly thought back on that day, frantically driving across the city where they used to live, praying desperately to get there in time, get there before it was too late, get there before Steve was dead. "I guess I faced my fear."

Vin looked from Chris through the clear glass door to the outside world.

"I can't," he finally said. "If they were out there. If I saw 'em, or if they touched me, or if they even just got too close and I could smell 'em again, I don't think that I'd be able to -" The words spun out of him.

"All right, just take a breath Vin," Chris tried to calm Vin before he went off into full blown panic. "They're not out there. I'm here with you. Nothing will happen." He put his arm around Vin. Wanting to protect him the way he hadn't protected Steve. "Truck is just around the corner."

"I can't."

"Okay, it'll be okay. We don't have to go anywhere."

Vin didn't feel safer with Chris nearby. He just felt - empty. Empty and sick. They were going back to Chris' house where he'd just take up more of their time and room and charity. It couldn't be long before even Larabee's friendship would crack under the strain. He could insist on staying here at his apartment, but Chris would just insist on staying with him, no matter how much Vin would say he'd be all right. No matter how much he lied, Chris would stay by his side.

Right up until the moment he decided Vin wasn't worth it.

"I'm all right," Vin suddenly declared, pulling away from the safe encircling arm. "Y'can go..." he stumbled a little over the words. "...get your truck. I'll just wait here." He wouldn't look at Chris.

"No hurry."

"Gotta get home - kept y'away from home too long already." He took a step or two away from Chris, and stiffened when he heard footsteps coming down the staircase. Only pride kept him from seeking the safety of Larabee's side.

"Vin? Is that you down there?"

"Dr. Hyde?" Vin turned cautiously to look up the stairs. Chris came to stand beside him.

"I thought I heard your voice down here..." The doctor appeared around the landing and came down into the little entryway. "Maria said you were back, I was just stopping by to see how you're doing."

"You met Chris?" Vin sidestepped the question. "Chris? You met Dr. Hyde, didn't you?"

"Coupla times. How are you doing?" They shook hands. Dr. Hyde stood taller than Chris, nearly as thin as Vin, with salt and pepper hair.

"Well I'll tell you, I'm better now that I've seen Vin," the doctor said to Chris. "Maria told me you looked like a raccoon, and you know, she was right."

"She tell you she scared the spit right outta me just now?"

"No." Concern instantly tightened Dr. Hyde's expression. "What happened?"

"Vin -" Chris took his opportunity. "I'll bring the truck around, okay?" and waited for the slight nod before venturing outside.

"So tell me what happened?" Dr. Hyde repeated, watching Vin's face closely, paying strict attention. Vin shrugged up to his apartment with one shoulder.

"We were getting ready to leave, Maria musta been just about to knock. I opened the door and saw somebody standing there. Thought my heart would never start beating again she scared me so bad."

"Well you probably scared her just as bad." Dr. Hyde crossed his arms and took stock of Vin from top to toes. The crinkle of cheerfulness seemed permanently etched around his eyes. "Are you okay? You've been to a doctor, haven't you?"

"Yeah, my friend and his wife, they're on staff at school, at work. Chris took me there yesterday..." Vin wasn't sure he liked the way Dr. Hyde was assessing him.

"Maria told me it was the boys who tried to molest her."

Vin tried to answer, wanted to deny it though there was little sense in that now. He'd never actually told anybody it was them, how did they all know? His attempts at breathing turned into short panting inhalations.

"It was nobody. _It was nobody_," he insisted. Chris' truck appeared at the curb then, and Dr. Hyde just nodded, laying a hand on Vin's shoulder.

"You let me know if there's anything I can do. You've done enough for nearly every other person in this building Vin, don't be shy about asking for help for yourself."

"Yeah...," Vin lied. Chris came through the door.

"Ready?" he asked, picking up his box.

"Yeah," Vin lied again. "Bye Doctor." He walked away, pulling away from the doctor's hand.

"Take care of yourself Vin - Chris? You call me if you need me. Nettie has my number."

"Thanks Doc. I'll take good care of him."

Heart and head pounding, Vin pushed the front door open with his shoulder and stepped onto the sidewalk. Instantly his whole body was on alert, every nerve tingling, every muscle primed to flight. Chris took long steps beside him to the truck. He set the box in the bed, flicked open the passenger door, and was back to Vin in a matter of seconds to walk him to the truck.

"I think he knows," Vin said when he was safely stowed in the passenger seat and Chris was starting the truck.

"I don't think so Vin. I think everybody knows who's going to know. You can stop worrying about that."

*/*/*/*

JD found Ezra in his office - he burst through the door breathless and alarmed. "Ezra - I gotta tell you what I just heard at the Student Union..."

to be continued


	24. Chapter 24

After setting clean clothes on the bottom bunk in the guest room, Mary headed downstairs just as Vin came up. His head was down and she could see he had a death grip on his duffel bag. He wasn't looking where he was headed.

"How'd it go?" she asked, more to let him know she was there than because she thought he'd give her a detailed account. Vin flinched in surprise and stopped dead on the second to top stair.

"Mary - didn't see y'there. How'd it go? Um, okay. Got everything taken care of." He shifted a little like he wanted to keep going, but didn't want to walk past her. He still wore Chris' shirt over his own. "Um, I was gonna take a shower. That okay? I brought clothes, you don't have to do my laundry again." He sounded anxious for Mary to know this. "I just - I was just gonna take a shower." His eyes went past her to the bathroom door. His breath started to come faster. "Is that okay?"

Mary smiled though she didn't feel it. Here was a man about to take his third shower in less than twelve hours. She wanted to reassure him but didn't know how; she didn't know what would help and what would just make him pull farther away. She started to walk back downstairs and as she came even with Vin, she put her arm around the front of him and gently pressed him close.

"You don't even have to ask." She felt Vin stiffen at the touch, but she held on long enough to add: "And throwing one more pair of jeans and shirt into the wash is no problem. Okay?" then wait for his quiet answer.

"Okay."

"Okay," she echoed and gave him an affectionate squeeze before she continued down the stairs. But when she got to the front hallway where Billy peppered Chris with questions and reports of what he'd done that day, Mary was trembling, and had tears in her eyes.

*/*/*/*

Ezra and JD were the last of the group to make it to Inez's cafe. Buck, Josiah, and Nathan were already at the small stretch of tables in the middle of the floor.

"Hey boys! Just about to send a posse out after you!" Buck called to them.

"We just - we had to - look - at - something," JD stammered out, not making eye contact with anybody as he hastily took a seat. The three friends were split between staring at JD, and looking to Ezra for clarification.

"What young Mr. Dunne is attempting to articulate is that we were necessarily detained at the University by a last minute security issue which required our immediate attention," Ezra intoned as he settled himself into an empty chair. But he had a funny look on his face. The group made a subtle shift in who was looking at JD and who was looking at Ezra.

"There was just something I had to look into," JD tried again. He picked up his menu and accidentally pushed his fork off the table. "Did you order yet?" His voice shook. "What's everybody having?"

"JD - what's wrong?" Buck took a serious tone.

"Something going on at school?" Nathan asked, concerned as well.

"Yeah - no. No." He pulled the menu open with a snap, cleared his throat and adjusted his chair. "No."

"Is that your final answer?" Buck had to ask and JD shot a glare down to him.

"_Nothing going on at school._"

Josiah chuckled as he read his menu. "Haven't seen a 'nothing' that upsetting in quite awhile. Must be an awful lot of 'nothing'." But JD wasn't about to backtalk his priest. Ezra cut into the conversation.

"How was Mr. Tanner when you saw him today? Is he recovering from his - injuries?"

"Yeah..," Buck answered slowly, squinting in his effort to figure out what was going on here. "His back is hurting him pretty bad though."

"But is he -? Did he -? What -?" JD fell over himself in trying to get something out, and he finally stammered to a halt. Buck looked at him, waiting for him to finish.

"_What_?" when JD didn't.

"Nothing!" but he and Ezra exchanged a look and Buck threw his paper napkin down in aggravation.

"All right - both of you. Something is going on. What aren't you saying?" he asked Ezra, then turned back to JD. "And what aren't you asking?"

"Something about Vin?" Nathan asked. Ezra was about to offer a reasonable negative response, but JD stammered out again as he stared determinedly at his menu.

"No, nothing about Vin. Why would it be anything about Vin? Nothing about Vin. Didn't hear anything about Vin. What'd make you think I heard anything about Vin?"

At that point, even JD knew the game was up. He sunk into his chair a little, not taking his eyes off the menu. That left Ezra the prime target of questioning stares.

Checking briefly around them to be sure they were out of earshot, Ezra answered the question. It was obvious he was not happy doing it.

"It would seem that Mr. Dunne, while investigating reports of suspicious activity outside the Student Union, overheard a conversation between two or three reprehensible miscreants, describing in some detail an attack they had perpetrated upon the person of a thin, blue eyed, long haired young man who lives in an apartment on Maple Avenue."

As he finished, Ezra raised an eyebrow, as though asking if they were happy now that they knew the answer.

"Nathan? Is it true? What they did?" JD asked, suddenly willing to look at the others. "Did they do what they were saying that they did?"

"JD - I can't tell you anything," Nathan said. "You know that's confidential."

JD's eyes got wide, taking that for a yes.

_"Oh my God." _

"Fellas, this is _not_ the place to be having this conversation," Buck growled.

"I agree," Josiah added his deep voice to Buck's. _"Not here, not anywhere_." Suddenly it was apparent that all five men knew they were talking about the same thing.

"How could he?" JD pushed on. "How could he just let them - let them -"

"_Not here. Not anywhere," _Josiah repeated, and the table fell silent. Inez came over.

"Nathan, is Rain coming? Will you wait for her, or do you all want to order now?"

"No, she won't be here tonight Inez." Nathan found it hard to make his mind jump from on topic to another. "She's at a friend's..."

"Okay. Well, do you need a few more minutes, or do you want to order now?" She waited a minute, then looked around the table when no one answered. Finally JD bolted to his feet.

"I'm not hungry - I couldn't eat. That's just - how could he - I - how can you -?" his incomplete question posed to the three men opposite him and Ezra. He shook his head. "I'm goin' home." and fled out the door. After a moment, Ezra stood up.

"I find that I am feeling a trifle disconcerted as well at the moment. If you'll excuse me," and he followed JD out of the restaurant.

"What's going on?" Inez asked. "What happened?"

"Oh, nothing, nothing." Buck rested his head in his hand. "Just a little misunderstanding."

*/*/*/*

When dinner was ready, Chris went in search of Vin. The shower had been off for awhile, so he headed for the guest room. At first glance, he didn't think Vin was in there, he didn't see him in either bunk. He turned to check the bathroom.

"Chris?"

"Vin? You in there?" Chris bent down a little and saw Vin huddled up at the head of the bed, pulled so tight into himself he hardly took any space at all. He'd changed his clothes, but was still wearing Chris' shirt on top of his own. "Didn't see you there. Dinner's ready."

"No - no thanks. I'm not hungry."

"Vin - you've got to eat something." Chris walked closer and sat in the chair at the desk under the window so he could see Vin.

"I can't." He didn't look up at Chris. He had his arms around his knees, with his parents' pictures tucked next to his chest. "I just want to stay here."

"Let me bring you something up then."

"No - don't do that. You don't have to do that. I can get something later, can't I? If I'm hungry later..." Just then came the unmistakable grumble of an empty stomach.

"Vin -"

"I'll just gag, I know I will." Vin sounded discouraged. "I can't even think about eating anything."

"How about some tea and toast?" Chris tried. The look Vin gave him told Chris he was at least considering it. Then tears filled Vin's eyes.

"I miss my Dad. Nothing bad ever happened to me while he was alive."

There was nothing Chris could say to that.

"Come downstairs Vin, I don't like you sitting up here all alone. You come on down and we'll sit out on the deck. You'll be able to eat." He was still surprised when Vin nodded and slid out of the bunk and followed him downstairs.

*/*/*/*

The day was warming up again, though the steady breeze kept it tolerable. Vin took himself and his pictures out to the deck and sat on the top step, leaning against the wooden railing. His whole body felt like it weighed a million pounds and took all his energy just to stay upright. Maybe he should've stayed upstairs - nobody looking at him, nobody wondering - but he didn't want to be alone. It didn't feel like he'd ever be able to be by himself again.

"Hi Vin!" Billy's voice preceded him out the sliding doors.

"Hey Billy," Vin responded, but there was no energy in him.

"Whatcha got?" the boy asked as he sat next to Vin and pointed to the frame in his hands.

"My parents." Vin opened it to show him. Billy studied the faces.

"Where are they?"

"They died - a long time ago."

Oh. My Uncle Steve died a long time ago too. When I was a baby. _Not supposed to talk about him though,_" Billy added in a whisper. "_It makes Dad mad_."

to be continued


	25. Chapter 25

Night settled into the pink and gray horizon and an idle wind blew through the yard. Vin held himself curled into an Adirondack chair on the deck. He'd managed to eat most of his dinner, _and_ managed to keep it down, though he couldn't say what it was he'd eaten. He had a glass of ice tea in his hand though, so he knew what he was drinking. Chris sat in the chair opposite Vin, with Billy sprawled asleep in his lap. Out front they could hear the jangle of collar and leash as Mary took Cowboy for a walk.

Vin wanted to say something, but commenting on the weather was so shallow it was painful. And the things he did want to talk about were too painful all on their own. Every single moment of the last forty-eight hours spun through his Vin's brain, from the split second he heard Maria scream, right up to the moment just past that Chris had brought him out a refill of ice tea. And all the broken agonizing moments in between.

Surprisingly though, Vin found a few good moments to dwell on too - laughing at Chris' poor laundry skills with Buck and Josiah at his apartment, eating bananas and milk at midnight while Chris told him about the problem at work, hugging Maria and knowing she was safe. Now this minute, sitting out in the warm and the wind, comfortable for a little while, feeling safe and protected with Chris no more than five feet away.

It seemed funny now to think back on the first time they met. How long ago was it? Three years? Vin'd come upon Chris hauling a few boxes of belongings from his truck to his office in the Administration Building and offered him a hand. Never thought that a simple friendly gesture would have such an impact on his life all this time later. Vin didn't even want to consider what his life would be like right now, right this minute, if he didn't have Chris for a friend.

Still, his brain conjured the images. If nothing else was different except he wasn't friends with Chris, Vin knew he'd still be at his apartment, lost and disoriented in the wreckage that he wouldn't have had the strength or will to clean up on his own. Every bit of furniture he owned would be stacked at the front door, and he'd be too sickened by what happened to set foot in the bathroom long enough to take a shower. He'd still be sitting at his little table, in pain and misery and isolation, overcome with nausea, and horrified at the prospect of getting on with his life.

But he _was_ friends with Chris. He _had_ summoned the nerve to leave his apartment and - though reluctantly - start getting his life back together. Even more reluctantly, he'd survived the first wave of humiliation that other people knew what'd happened - first Nathan and Rain, then Chris and Buck. Though it was easier telling Josiah, Vin knew he never would have told him if he didn't have that fortress of Larabee waiting by in case anything spun out of control.

So now, here he was. Bearable pain twinged through him, held at bay with his pain killers. He'd eaten, though he couldn't remember what. He was warm enough, comfortable to be sitting here out in the open. He pushed away the aching certainty whispering to him that sooner or later, Chris would get tired of baby-sitting him and leave him just as alone and miserable as he'd ever been. Vin made himself not believe that for now. The horror still hovered around the edges of his awareness, and would undoubtedly jump him whenever it got the chance. But Vin knew he had a safe place to come to whenever that happened. He knew, because he was there right now.

*/*/*/*

Chris kept watch over Vin out of the corner of his eye as he gazed out over his land. Vin shifted every once in awhile, Chris figured he was just trying to get comfortable with his collection of aches and pains, but he seemed quiet over all, probably a mixture of painkillers and eating a decent amount of food at dinner. Vin had the picture frame open and lying against his chest, Chris wondered if he even was conscious of it being there, it'd become almost an appendage. They'd have to figure a safer way for Vin to carry it with him.

Tomorrow was a problem for Chris. He hated to leave Vin on his own, but he had to get back to his office and work on the Environmental services disaster. It wasn't something he could handle from home. Then he wondered what he was thinking - work be damned. Vin was hurt and scared, and if Chris had to take an unpaid leave of absence to help his friend get through this, he would. God help the person who told him otherwise.

So a half hour passed, both men grappling with the problems of the world silently, but not entirely alone. Vin finished his tea and set the glass on the deck next to his chair. Mary came back with Cowboy, and took Billy out of Chris' arms to carry to bed. Vin finally looked over to Chris and asked:

"Be okay if I come to work with you tomorrow? Give you a hand sortin' through James' mess?"

Half a dozen arguments against that very idea sprang up in Chris' mind - it was too soon, Vin was too poor physically and too vulnerable emotionally to spend a day relatively in public, he needed to rest, he needed to heal - but Chris nodded. "Sounds good."

*/*/*/*

Buck drove to JD's apartment, a block away from the University. He found him at the side of the building tossing a bag of garbage into the dumpster as the overhead streetlight sputtered and hummed to life.

"You want to tell me what the hell that was all about?" Buck demanded even before he'd shut the truck door. The thought crossed JD's mind to pretend he didn't know what Buck was talking about, it showed in his eyes.

"I heard it at school -"

"Yeah, you _heard_ all right. You wanna tell me exactly what it was you _heard_?" Buck didn't try to hide his anger. "And then maybe you can tell me what your problem is."

"I don't have a problem." JD wouldn't meet Buck's eyes, and he turned away, intending to go back inside.

"Sure seemed like you had a problem at the restaurant." Buck followed him. "You tell me what you heard, where you heard it, and who exactly you heard it from."

"So it's true," JD said. "It really happened. Vin let -" The sentence cut off as Buck grabbed his arm roughly and spun JD to face him.

"I better never catch you using the word '_let'_ again JD. You hear me? Wasn't any 'let' about it. Broken ribs and a fractured spine sound like 'let' to you?" But JD pulled out of his grip.

"I don't know what it sounds like," he answered honestly. "All I know is Vin never seemed the kind of guy who'd let -" he stumbled over that word, trying to express his thought without using it. "I mean - you'd just think - Casey said Nettie always told her it'd be better to let 'em kill you rather than -" As he said this, JD could see the anger building in Buck's eyes.

_"You told Casey?"_ Buck all but shouted. "First Ezra - then Casey? Dammit JD - why don't you just take a page out in the school newspaper. You don't go telling things like that behind a man's back."

"What's it to you anyway Buck?" JD demanded. "Of anybody I'd think you'd have the biggest problem with this..."

"Me?" Buck was surprised. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"You know Buck - you've always been such a ladies man. You'd think -" and JD broke off again as a violent look settled on Buck's face. He leaned in close to JD as though he intended to snarl something, but instead he shoved JD away and stomped back to his truck. He drove away without another word or glance back.

*/*/*/*

It was late, but lights were on in Chris' house so Buck pulled in the driveway and headed for the front door. He'd only made it halfway up the sidewalk when the porch light flicked on and Chris came outside.

"Buck - what's going on?" He sounded worried.

"Where's Vin?"

The question didn't ease Larabee's worry at all.

"Upstairs, sleeping. Went to bed a little while ago. Why?"

Buck glanced up. The window to the guest room was on the other side of the house, still he didn't want to take the chance of being overheard. "We need to take a walk Chris. Got something to tell you, and it ain't pleasant..."

to be continued


	26. Chapter 26

It was too dark to trust walking along the road, so Chris and Buck walked across the yard, toward the far end of the property, keeping within the circle of the backyard light.

"What's going on?" Chris asked, when he thought they'd covered enough distance. He kept his voice light, but concern vibrated right under the surface. Buck sighed. No way to say it but say it.

"JD knows what happened to Vin."

"_How_?"

"He overheard some fellas talking at school," Buck told him. Chris instantly went on alert.

"_Did he get a good look at them? Was it them? What were they doing there? Would he recognize them again?" _

"Hold on a second Chris - he didn't say and I didn't ask -"

_"You didn't ask?_ Buck -" Chris was fuming. "It might be our best chance to catch those bastards and -"

"And _what_?" Buck had to ask. "It's bad enough, the few of us who do know. This thing goes to trial and it'll be Vin that public opinion judges, not the criminals."

Chris didn't answer right away. When he did, the tone of his voice and the look in his eye unnerved Buck.

"_They won't make it to trial._"

Buck wanted to tell Chris that being a police officer, he couldn't be hearing that. He wanted to ask Chris if him being brought up on charges of assault or worse would make anything better for Vin. Then he thought of the look on Vin's face when he told Buck "_I'm afraid they'll get me again._"

And all Buck said to Chris was, "_Whatever you do - don't get caught_," and Chris nodded. A moment passed before Buck went on. "It gets worse Chris - JD told Ezra, and he told Casey..."

"Which means Nettie knows by now." Chris pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. He could feel a headache coming on. "Well...I'll tell him in the morning...he'll hate it, but it can't be helped now. I know JD'll help Vin -"

"JD thinks Vin '_let'_ them," Buck stated flatly.

"_What_?"

"JD thinks Vin 'let them' assault him. He said Nettie thinks it's better to be killed than raped. Nathan thinks it only happened because Vin's on the small side. God only knows what Ezra thinks -"

"Wait - _what_?" This was all becoming too much for Chris. "When the hell were you all talking about this? What do you mean you don't know what Ezra's thinking? What the hell _could_ Ezra be thinking?"

Buck visibly sagged as he told Chris what happened at the restaurant, and the conversation he'd had with Nathan and Josiah afterward.

"Nathan's plumb convinced it couldn't happen to him because he's bigger and stronger than Vin. He's surprised that Rain thinks it's no big deal, that Vin should hardly take notice that it happened. Nathan thinks it's the worst possible thing that could ever happen to a man."

Chris felt his headache spread. The shame was going to kill Vin.

"What am I gonna do Buck?" he asked, knowing there was no answer. But Buck and Josiah had discussed this as well, for a long while after Nathan left them.

"Just _be_ there Chris. That's the best thing you can do for Vin."

"It wasn't enough for Steve," Chris accused himself.

"Vin ain't Steve," Buck said. "This is physical assault, not mental illness. You listen to me Chris - you stay with Vin."

*/*/*/*

Monday morning started in on Vin even before he opened his eyes. He came awake feeling Cowboy lying across his legs. It was a comforting sensation - until the dog roared awake, launching himself off the lower bunk right onto the desk, barking at some unknown presence just outside the window. The sudden movement - and the accompanying shock - sent spasms up and down Vin's back.

He'd been taking his required dosage of pain killers - maybe a little more - so the pain ebbed as quickly as it swelled. He sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed - just in time to have Cowboy jump off the desk and inflict a long painful scrape on his foot with a nail that needed to be cut.

When that ripping, throbbing pain subsided, Vin stood up - and caught his shoulder on the upper bunk. Beginning to feel that he was in the middle of a giant pinball game, he slowly and carefully walked to the bedroom door, looked both ways up and down the hallway, then just as carefully walked to the bathroom. So far, so good. He might actually get through this day, one careful step at a time.

He used the toilet and encountered a lot more blood than he'd been expecting. He wondered if maybe he shouldn't have eaten as much as he did for dinner. He wondered if maybe he should tell Nathan. But he didn't want to tell Nathan. He didn't want to go through what he knew he'd go through again if he told Nathan he was bleeding worse.

He decided to ignore it - for as long as he possibly could.

*/*/*/*

Chris hadn't slept well. His headache raged and he'd been awake most of the night trying to think what to say to Vin. He dreaded having to tell him everything. Hell, he dreaded having to tell Vin _anything_. The man deserved a break, and it didn't seem he was going to get one anytime soon.

He heard Cowboy barking upstairs and by the time he'd summoned the energy to go tell him to shut up, the dog was galloping down the stairs and to the sliding doors to be let outside. As Chris was sliding the door shut again, he heard Vin moving around upstairs, using the bathroom and taking a shower. Chris sighed. Sooner than he wanted, he was going to have to face this whole mess. He went to the downstairs bathroom searching for some more Tylenol for his headache. Maybe Vin would part with one of his prescription painkillers.

*/*/*/*

The short hallway upstairs in Larabee's house seemed to dip and sway as Vin tried to walk to the staircase without getting any more parts of his body whacked on the way. He put his hand on the wall to stay upright, and then relied the banister until he got downstairs. He was still wearing Chris' shirt over his own, but he'd left his parents' picture on the bed.

He stopped a moment at the bottom of the stairs to take a breath and will himself to stay upright before walking to the kitchen. He found Chris sitting at the kitchen table, his head in his hands. He almost backed out again, but Chris lifted his head. He still almost backed out. Larabee peered at him with the peculiar look of a man whose eyes aren't working quite as well as he needed them to.

"Cowboy didn't wake you up, did he?" Chris asked.

"Time to get up," Vin answered noncommittally.

Chris watched Vin, standing in the kitchen doorway. He was sorry Cowboy had disturbed him, and wanted to tell him so, but he could hardly draw breath to talk. His eyes didn't seem to be focusing sharp enough, like his headache was pushing them off center. It hurt so bad that every beat of his heart seemed to make his vision jump.

"You gonna sit down?" he finally asked. Vin shrugged and pulled a chair out to sit down. Chris wanted to offer Vin breakfast, but just the _thought_ of moving made him sick. No way he was going to make it to work today, which was just as well. It'd be better if Vin stayed home another day or two at least. Chris wished his headache would subside enough to let him keep a decent eye on Vin. He'd be no help to his friend if he couldn't even see straight. He decided to give it another minute then ask Vin what he wanted for breakfast.

When Vin sat down, Chris put his head back in his hands, and Vin wished he'd followed his first inclination to leave the room. Chris wasn't saying anything, seemed like he wasn't feeling all that good.

"You okay?" The question came out reluctantly.

"Well, I haven't been able to find it, but I just know there's a knife sticking somewhere in my skull..," Chris answered without lifting his head.

"Take anything for it? Should go back to bed."

"Didn't sleep all night - don't figure daylight'll change that."

And Vin didn't know what else to say. "Take anything for it?" he tried again. Chris nodded.

"Most of the medicine cabinet. Hasn't helped."

"You wanna try one of my painkillers?" Vin offered, and Chris peeled one eye open.

"I would _love_ to try one of those - as long as you don't mind me being unconscious the rest of the day..."

"Keep you outta trouble leastways..."

Chris could barely see Vin offer him a glass of water and two tablets. "Thanks."

"Where's Mary?"

"Took Billy and headed out early. The mall is having some back-to-school mega blitz sale and Mary and her Mom want to get there early for a good parking spot." The sentence took most of the air Chris had left in his body. Excuse enough not to tell the rest, but he knew he had to tell the rest. "Vin?" .

"What?" as he took his seat again.

No way to say it but just say it.

"JD and Ezra know."

Funny how one word could encompass so much. Chris watched the flicker of emotions cross Vin's face. Fear, anger, confusion. They know, they know, how could they know?

"JD said he heard some guys talking about it at school..."

The confusion on Vin's face was replaced with high burning shame. Less than three days, and he was being talked about at school, Chris read in the emotion.

"You talked to JD?" was all Vin said, his voice strained.

"Buck talked to him. Vin - JD told Ezra, and he told Casey."

If he was feeling better, Chris would've made sure Vin knew just how pissed he was at JD for telling anybody, and that JD was going to feel the full weight of his anger. He'd just have to remember to tell Vin that later.

Vin nodded, barely hearing what Chris said. The walls of the kitchen rippled as the dizziness came back, bringing nausea with it. All the little pieces of himself he'd been picking up in the last day and half were suddenly swept from his grasp, and there was no way to hold onto them. With every bit of privacy that was taken from him, he lost a little bit more of who he used to be, who he'd probably never be again. All the little fractures fractured a little bit more.

"It'll be okay," Chris said, but it was too much.

"_Nothing is going to be fucking okay," _Vin snapped and was instantly sorry and ashamed. He never used the "F" word. _They_ had used it, over and over. God, what was happening to him?

to be continued


	27. Chapter 27

Silence never sounded so loud. It echoed around and around in Chris' brain, making it nearly impossible for him to lift his head from where he cushioned it on his arms on the kitchen table. Just another minute he'd give it, another minute to wait for the motion sickness to subside and his eyes to feel like they'd stay in place and the beginnings of nausea to settle down. Then he'd be able to stand up and function again. Make some breakfast. Eat some breakfast. Keep an eye on Vin.

_Do some laundry. _

He almost laughed, but it upset his stomach.

Another minute. He'd give it just another minute.

*/*/*/*

Vin watched Chris a little while. He wanted to do something to help him. Get him out of the kitchen and to the couch at least, but he didn't think he was physically strong enough right now to do that if Chris couldn't help. Maybe get him some more water, or Seven Up. Chris should lie down or throw up or something, Vin knew. He wanted to help, but he wasn't sure what to do. Wasn't sure that he _could_ do anything.

He'd wait another minute, and if Chris didn't move by then, he'd try somehow to get him to lie down on the couch.

Before the minute was up, the phone rang. At first Vin wasn't going to answer it, then he had visions of Mary's car breaking down or some equal catastrophe, and he walked the few paces to the wall phone.

"Hello?"

Nothing.

He pushed back rising panic and tried again, tried to sound stronger than he felt.

"_Hello_?"

"Uhh - is Chris there?" and Vin let out one breath before taking in another.

JD.

_He knew. _

"He hasn't come in yet and he didn't call and I just wanted to make sure everything was okay because he never doesn't call is he there?" JD exploded all on one breath.

_He __**knew**__._

"He's sick, gotta headache." Vin offered tentatively. JD knew - but what was he thinking?

"Oh."

And nothing.

"Oh." JD repeated after a few heartbeats of them listening to each other breathe. "So - you're over there? With Chris?" It sounded like an accusation.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

And nothing.

"Nothing. Just - I didn't think - I mean I woulda thought - I never thought -" This didn't sound like the awkward stammering of anxious concern, and Vin began to get an idea what JD was thinking.

"Just spit it out JD." he snapped.

And nothing.

"Just tell Chris I called." JD snapped back and slammed his phone down. If Vin'd been at home, he would've been tempted to yank the phone from the wall and throw it out the closest window. But he wasn't home and this wasn't his phone, so he set it back on the cradle and looked down at Chris' still-nearly-unconscious form.

"_Nothing's going to be okay._"

*/*/*/*

Buck cursed and muttered, muttered and cursed as he drove to Chris' house. One short and blazing conversation with JD when Buck tried calling Chris at work had him pushing the speed limit all the way across town.

_"Chris isn't coming in to work today. I guess Vin is hiding out at his house."_ was all the JD managed to say before Buck laid into him six different ways.

_"Of all the stupid, short-sighted, obnoxious things to say about a man who is a friend of yours. JD I swear I'd like to shake some sense into you -"_

But the tirade was cut short as JD hung up on him, and Buck was left to curse loudly to himself as he made the trip over to personally make sure Chris and Vin were okay.

He saw both trucks in the yard and Cowboy ran out to greet him as he pulled alongside of them.

"Hey, boy? Where is everybody? Are they around back?"

He scrubbed the dog's head and kept his ears open for any sound that anybody was outside. He followed the dog and narrow sidewalk back to the deck and the sliding glass doors. Still no sound, from inside or outside the house. Cowboy scratched at the doors to be let in and Buck gently pushed one open.

"Hey? Anybody home?" he called as he stepped into the family room. He heard the scrape of a kitchen chair, and feet across linoleum.

"Buck?" Vin's question preceded him out of kitchen. "You supposed to be at work?"

"Came to see how you're doing. JD told me Chris is sick?"

At the mention of Dunne's name, Buck saw a flush spread on Vin's face. _He knows that he knows._ Buck thought. Seeing his friend standing there, pale and trembling, wearing Chris' shirt like a safety blanket, kicked up every protective instinct Buck had inside of him. He rapidly made some decisions.

"He's in the kitchen." Vin said of Chris. "Got a real bad headache. Haven't been able to do anything for him."

"How are _you_ doing?" Buck asked as he followed Vin out to the kitchen.

"Okay, I guess." and he gestured with his head toward Chris, who still had his head on his arms on the table. "Was gonna see if I could get him to the couch to lie down. He'll get a stiff neck if he stays that way."

"I'll take care of it." Buck assured him. "You have breakfast yet?" and Vin answered with a slight shake of his head. "Well, when I get Sleeping Beauty tucked away, why don't you let me take you out and buy you some breakfast? Figure you must be gettin' a little stir crazy spending all your time with Chris."

Actually, Buck thought Vin _might just_ be hiding here, like JD said. What he really wanted to do was get Vin to see that the world hadn't frozen shut or become wholly threatening. A nice drive, get some air - have a little talk - might help Vin get a grip on some of the realities he was going to have to face.

"What d'you say?" Buck prompted casually, when Vin didn't answer. Finally, he nodded.

"Yeah, sure, okay."

Buck smiled.

"Great - just give me a minute with Sleepy and Grumpy here. _HEY LARABEE_." he shook his friend none too gently and yelled to him. "_WAKE UP SO YOU CAN GO TO SLEEP_."

At first, the only answer to be heard was a god-awful moan coming from the prone body.

"...kill you Wilmington..." Chris finally managed to threaten, though his voice wasn't steady. "...swear to God, I get this knife outta my skull, I'm gonna use it on you..."

"Big talk for a man who can't lift his head. Now, come on." Buck put his hand under Chris' arm and lifted him to his feet with an ease Vin knew he wouldn't have been able to manage. "Get them feet moving Chris, don't make me carry you..." and he propelled Chris to the couch in the family room.

Buck hadn't been worried when JD told him Chris was sick - he figured that Chris was just taking a day or so to stay with Vin. Now, he _was_ worried. It'd been years since Larabee'd had a headache so bad he couldn't function - and those had all been traced back to stress over Stephen. If he was getting that stressed again over Vin - well, that just wasn't a good sign.

Chris stopped just briefly as they passed Vin - "Hey..." - but Buck didn't let him linger.

"Soon's I tuck you in, me n'Vin are hitting the road for some grub." Buck informed Chris.

"Ugh - don't mention food." Buck got Chris sitting on the couch, but he resisted further attempts to get him to lie down. "I'll be okay." he insisted, with painful, bleary eyes. He added softly "You take care of him." and Buck nodded.

"Count on it."

*/*/*/*

Vin followed Buck outside half reluctantly, half gratefully. He hated to leave the safety of being indoors, but he realized - with no small amount of shame - that he didn't feel exactly safe there with Chris sick and sleeping.

"Think he's gonna be okay?" he asked Buck, as they climbed into Wilmington's aging truck. "I didn't know what to do - I couldn't do anything for him."

"What d'you mean? What'd you do?"

"I just -" Vin tried to remember. "...gave him a couple of my painkillers, answered the phone when it rang. Just sat there with him."

"Sounds to me like you did a hell of a lot." Buck assured him. "He'll be fine. Just let him sleep it off." He started up the truck and backed out of the driveway. "What do you think? Drive through McDonalds and find a nice place to park by the canal?"

"Sure."

Buck kept up the conversation, asking questions Vin didn't mind answering, though it seemed like he was making his way to some painful ones.

"How you been sleeping?"

"Okay. Think the painillers knock me out."

"Getting any nightmares?"

"Not yet." Vin shook his head.

"Well, I hope you don't get any Vin, but I expect that you will. Not just when you're sleeping either."

"I know. Been lucky so far." Really, Vin figured he was still in shock. Once his system caught its theoretical breath, he figured he was in for a hell of a ride. "Been feeling safe at Chris' house. Can't keep myself safety pinned to him the rest of my life though."

He thought about it a minute.

"JD knows?" he asked Buck, though Chris had already told him.

"Yeah, he does."

"He blames me, doesn't he? Thinks it's my fault?"

"Yeah." Buck answered with a long breath. "Don't know why exactly, but yeah."

"What about Ezra? What does he think?" and the silence that answered told him everything. "Nettie probably hates me."

"Why do you say that?" Buck had to ask.

"Because, if she didn't, she woulda called by now. She woulda made sure I'm okay. You know how she is. Chris is trying to tell me everything'll be all right. Sure don't feel like it."

His voice was strained, he could hear it. Holding onto the last shred of strength he had.

"Everything _will_ be okay Vin. It'll take time - and yeah, you'll probably go through hell in the meantime. But it will be okay."

And Vin nodded, knowing he heard the truth in Buck's statement.

"Okay."

to be continued


	28. Chapter 28

Ezra sat at his desk, staring at the screensaver of dice and playing cards tumbling across his computer screen. If anyone asked, he wouldn't have been able to tell them exactly what was going through his mind. Nothing maybe. No concrete images certainly. Just - abhorrence? Repugnance? What was it that he was feeling so acutely he couldn't summon the concentration necessary to log himself onto his computer?

It'd only been a matter of days since he'd seen Vin last. Thursday, wasn't it? Ezra had been heading for home. Passing Vin on the University Green, they exchanged pleasantries before going their separate ways.

"You drive safe now Ezra," was the last thing Vin said.

That was the last thing Vin _always_ said.

Suddenly, Ezra's mind was burdened with a dozen details of Vin's thoughtfulness and generosity of spirit. Vin was the one who remembered that Ezra didn't like too much ice in his ice water. He was the one who remembered birthdays and special anniversaries and favorite odd holidays with a card or verbal greeting. If someone's car was out of commission, Vin was always the first to offer a ride to work or home, or anywhere. He was always the first with a joke, a napkin, a hand, a shoulder.

Yet, at this very moment, Ezra knew that if he never saw Vin again, it would be too soon.

*/*/*/*

The pseudo-rural countryside around Chris' land quickly disappeared as Buck turned his truck down a few side roads and onto the main drag of town. Car dealerships, fast food restaurants, strip malls and trailer parks lined the four lane highway on either side.

"Seems like it's gonna be another hot day." Buck said.

"Yeah." Vin answered absently. His mind was off elsewhere, thinking. He'd known Chris three years now, and Buck nearly as long, less a week or so. At first their only connection was through Chris. Even now, when they seemed to have developed their own friendship, sometimes it seemed that Chris was the only thing they had in common. Vin wondered how he'd come to find himself sitting in the front seat of Buck's truck, on their way to breakfast, hard on the heels of a brutal nightmare.

"Not gettin' any greener." Buck muttered to the slow driver at the signal in front of them. "Hey-" he directed at Vin, when traffic moved again. "You want me to check your mail for you? I can swing by after work this afternoon."

"Okay...thanks...Chris's still got my keys..." Vin wanted to ask Buck why he was doing all this, what he wanted, why he cared what happened to Vin. Why he _didn't_ care what had happened. "If it's bills, you can keep 'em."

Buck laughed at first, then a serious look crossed his face.

"You've got sick time, right? You'll be on disability, something like that? I mean - being off work won't set you back any, will it?" he asked. The question - and the concern behind it - nearly overwhelmed Vin. He nodded, then wanted to be sure Buck knew which question he was answering.

"I'm all set."

"You sure? Car payment? Rent?" Vin nodded each time. "Well, you let me know if things change." Buck insisted. Just as Vin was trying to still the emotion rolling through him enough to say 'thanks', Buck went on in a tone just as serious and concerned: "_Cheese of the month club_?" and Vin laughed out loud. The first time, he thought, since the attack.

*/*/*/*

Casey watched Nettie finish vacuuming the dining room carpet for the third time that morning. Still early, barely nine am, and the dishes were done, laundry hanging in the yard, woodwork polished, kitchen floor gleaming - and every carpet in the house immaculate.

"Aunt Nettie? Is everything okay?"

"Of course dear." Nettie said, wrapping the vacuum cord around its posts on the handle. "Why would you even ask?" She rolled the vacuum cleaner to the front closet then went into the kitchen for glass cleaner and paper towels to start on the dining room windows.

"Well -" Casey's head swiveled as though she was at a tennis match, watching her aunt come and go. "You just seem a little - _busy_."

"Busy? Well honey, it's going to be another scorcher today. I just want to get all the housework done before midday."

"Aunt Nettie -" This was more housework than they usually did in four days, much less one. " - are you worried about Vin?" and the older woman stopped in mid-swipe across a pane of glass. She looked down and refolded the paper towel for a clean surface and began wiping again.

"Of course I'm worried honey. He's been hurt. Of course I'm worried."

"But - you've hardly been over to see him at all."

"He's staying at Chris' place while he gets better." But Casey knew that that wouldn't usually stop Nettie from keeping a close eye on Vin.

"JD said he was -"

"_I know what JD said_." Nettie told her, a little harshly. Up until that moment, Casey hadn't really believed it was true.

"But - Aunt Nettie - how could he?" Unconsciously echoing JD's sentiment as her own. "You always told me it'd be better to die than let _that_ happen. Why do you think he let them do that? Wouldn't you think Vin'd fight till they killed him, before he'd let them do - _that_ - wouldn't you think that?"

Nettie sighed and turned her paper towel again. "Yes Casey. I would've thought so."

*/*/*/*

Buck was grateful for that one laugh, it meant everything wasn't dead inside Vin. He was serious about helping Vin, and when he saw in his eyes just how much it meant to him, Buck found himself automatically trying to lighten the situation. He knew Vin was trying to find a way to thank him for helping, but Buck didn't need to be thanked. Vin was a friend, a good friend, and he needed a hand to guide him through some rough waters. Buck had had his own brush with similar waters and he wasn't about to sit by and watch Vin Tanner drown.

Vin sat now watching out the passenger window. He kept it rolled all the way up, though the morning was growing hot and the truck didn't boast A/C. Buck figured he felt safer that way, so he didn't say anything about it. It was a short drive from Larabee's to the closest McDonalds, fifteen minutes if that, and as they rolled to a stop in the drive thru line, Buck asked Vin what he wanted for breakfast. Vin turned a look on him as though it hadn't occurred to him he'd be required to _eat food_ for breakfast.

"Oh - I don't know. Whatever you're having I reckon. What are you having? I can pay for it..." he started to reach for his wallet, but Buck pushed his hand down.

"Don't even think about it. I'm asking, I'm paying." and Vin blinked several times.

"Thanks, Buck."

*/*/*/*

Rain pulled together the paperwork she needed to start the clinic's monthly statistics. They weren't due until the tenth of the following month, still two weeks away, but she wanted to get a head start. Nathan was in the supply closet just across the hall, taking inventory. After a little while of inputting her data, she called to him:

"Nathan? How old is Vin? I know it's in his chart, but I don't have it with me."

"Vin?" Nathan walked the few feet over to her. "I don't know exactly. I'll pull his chart for you - why do you want to know?"

"For the stats. I always put the person's age in along with the diagnosis."

"You're putting _that_ in the statistics?" Nathan asked, dismayed. "You can't do that. You can't do that to Vin."

"Nathan - I'm not putting in his name or any identifying data. We _always_ break down our cases by diagnosis and age."

"And _sex_." Nathan pointed out. "Somebody is bound to figure it out Rain. We can't do that to Vin."

"Do _what_ Nathan? It's no different than recording how many cases of migraine headaches or STD we treat in a month."

"Of course it's different. Do you know how much ridicule and ostracism we would be setting him up for? Vin must be walking a fine line now emotionally. He's gonna have a hard enough time getting his life back together, he doesn't need to be dragging our statistics along with everything else he's carrying right now."

Rain stared at Nathan, then grumbled and hit her 'delete' key repeatedly. "Fine. I won't put it in. But I think you're wrong about Vin. I know he was agitated when we treated him the other day, but he's had time to sort this all out. I'm sure he's dealing with it quite well."

*/*/*/*

Buck and Vin got their fast food breakfast and drove another ten minutes or so out of town, in the direction opposite from where Chris lived. Buck pulled into a shaded, isolated spot along the canal and they ate in silence for awhile. Vin just picked at his food, taking tiny bites and chewing longer than would seem necessary. Buck was finished with his breakfast long before Vin ever would be.

"Everything OK?" he asked.

"Hunh?"

"The food okay? If that's not what you want, you know we can get whatever you want to eat."

"Oh - no. This is fine, I always like McDonald's. Just - tired - I don't know - eating's not exactly top on my list these days."

Buck hesitated before saying anything, quickly running possible answers through his mind. He didn't want to sound patronizing, or flippant, or cause Vin any more pain.

"You need to eat to get well."

"Doesn't always work that way." Vin's response confused Buck at first.

"What're you talking about?" but Vin dismissed it with a shake of his head.

"Nothing - just don't feel a hundred percent today." He took a pull on his orange juice - he was almost done with that, Buck noticed, and after a minute or so, his brain finally registered what Vin might be referring to. This was not a time to be coy

"Have you been bleeding?" he asked. "You need to see Nathan?"

"I never want to see Nathan again." Vin spoke down to his hands. He sounded totally desolate. "_I never want to see anybody again._" Buck shifted slightly so he could put his hand on Vin's shoulder without stretching.

"I know you don't, Vin. I know you don't."

Finally, Vin just crumpled his breakfast burrito up in its paper and shoved it into the paper sack.

"I'm sorry - I just can't eat anything."

Buck knew Vin was apologizing, thinking he'd wasted his money or something. He kept his hand on Vin's shoulder, even though he could feel the muscles tense in an unconscious effort to get him to let go.

"You have to eat eventually Vin. You have to heal."

"I'm not going back to Nathan's." Vin spat and Buck sighed.

"I can guess it wasn't pleasant."

"Do you know what they did?" Vin demanded. "What they had to do? What they said they'd _have_ to do if it didn't heal? Damn attack wasn't bad enough - can't I just get through the rest of my life without anybody touching me?" and Buck still didn't move his hand.

"No Vin, you can't. And I don't just mean this..." he squeezed his hand gently around the thin shoulder. "Just a part of life that people will touch you. You can't get away from it."

"Sure you can." Vin disputed him. "My whole life, long as I can remember until just recent, nobody ever had both hands on me at the same time on purpose."

It took Buck several seconds to get over the shock.

"_Ever?_"

"No, not ever."

"Not your Mom or your Dad? Or anybody?" Buck couldn't believe it.

"Well, I guess Mom must've, don't remember it much." Vin owned. "But not my Dad. He wasn't a touching kinda person. We didn't even shake hands at Mass..."

"Vin - _years_ nobody touched you?" Buck refused to believe it. "Not hugs, or handshakes, or getting a pat on the back for a job well done? What about dating? You must've held hands? Or something?"

A deep blush swept across Vin's face, and just as Buck was about to offer that it was none of his business, Vin answered him.

"I don't date much Buck. Not the same lady more'n a few times anyway. Probably got something to do with it, not holding hands even."

"But Vin - surely you've -" and this Buck could believe even less. "-made love with a woman?" Vin shook his head.

"Doing it before you're married is against my faith." then a look crossed his face as he seemed to realize what he was saying. _It_ had been done to him.

"Vin - what they did to you was an act of violence. They used the act of sex as a weapon. It was as impersonal as if they _had_ hit you with a truck."

"Yeah." but Vin's tone of voice didn't agree with his word. He tried to look at Buck a couple of times, but he couldn't raise his eyes. "Can we just - would you take me back to Chris' place? I just want to lie down for awhile."

"Sure." Buck finally moved his hand and started his truck.

to be continued


	29. Chapter 29

All the way back to Larabee's, Buck's mind was on overdrive. All the years he'd known Vin, he sifted now like clues at a crime scene. He couldn't summon one memory of Vin touching or being touched by anyone. Until the past couple of days, Buck couldn't remember ever touching Vin - he just always seemed to give off vibes like a force field and Buck never tried breaching it. It'd never occurred to him that it translated into the whole rest of Vin's life. Wearing Chris' shirt was the closest thing to an intimate gesture Buck could recall Vin displaying. He was thirty now, or nearly, how could a man go that long without making love with a woman?

How could anybody be so afraid of another person's touch?

*/*/*/*

By the time they got to Chris' house, Vin was in misery. He didn't want to remember the loneliness that made up most of his life. Physical loneliness as much as emotional. He hadn't been touched in so long - till that first time Nettie hugged him - that he was almost afraid of it. Afraid of wanting it, afraid of the need of it overwhelming everything else in his life.

The goodbye hugs he got now from Nettie - used to get anyway - meant so much to him, he kept a mental count of how many times it happened, and he remembered each and every one of them vividly. And the other night, Saturday night, when Chris held him while he cried - Vin didn't think he'd ever get over the shock of that happening. It astonished him that Chris would do that, with or without the attack, and it shamed him how good it felt and how much he wished he could stay there forever.

So now he didn't feel good, he was hungry but didn't want to eat, he felt lightheaded, and parts of his body he didn't want to think about ached. He just wanted to get back to Chris' house and hide.

*/*/*/*

They parked in the driveway and Vin followed Buck to the front door.

"Where's Mary? Her car's not here..." Buck asked as he unlocked the door.

"School shopping. Guess the mall is having a 'last chance' sale or something."

"Oh I remember those days..." They walked into a silent house. Buck checked on Chris while Vin took the McDonald's trash into the kitchen to toss.

"Sleeping Beauty is still out." Buck announced, following Vin into the kitchen.

"He took enough medication to choke a horse...'preciate you taking me to breakfast Buck. Sorry I wasn't better company..."

Vin looked up when Buck let out a long breath.

"You were fine company Vin. I'm always glad to spend time with you. This wasn't a 'pity date'. Trust me - I know. I've been on the giving _and_ the receiving end of those..." but Vin didn't respond to the humor. He leaned against the counter and pushed one hand into a front pocket of his jeans. "How's your back feeling anyway?" Buck went on. He came to stand in front of Vin.

"Okay, I've been taking my own arsenal of pain killers."

"Well, there's something I want to give you, if you'll let me."

"What is it?" Vin asked, suspicious.

"This." and Buck wrapped his arms around a very startled Vin.

"Buck? What - don't - _Buck_. What are you doing?" Vin put his hands on Buck's arms, trying to resist, but he found himself firmly - but gently - restrained.

"I'm teaching you a lesson." Buck told him.

"What the hell kinda lesson, Buck? _Let me go_."

"I want to show you that _this_ -" he emphasized the word by increasing the pressure of his embrace just slightly. " - _this_ is nothing to be afraid of. And needing it is nothing to be ashamed of."

"Fine. Thanks. Let me go." Vin said into the fabric of Buck's shirt.

"No, Vin, it's just not that easy."

"Buck - I'm fine. Let me go." Vin tried an insistent voice, but was afraid to physically try harder, he didn't want to hurt his back.

"This isn't about being 'fine' or 'not fine' Vin. At least not physically."

"Then what the hell _is_ it about?" Vin felt panic welling up in him, his breath came fast, and in another minute he was going to force Buck to let go, no matter how much it might hurt. Physically or otherwise.

"It's about knowing that you're not alone, Vin. It's about letting friends help you and care about you."

_"You can help me by letting me go." _

Vin increased the force of his hands on Buck's arms. What if Chris woke up? What if Mary came home? He didn't want anybody to see him standing here, hugging Buck, hugging anybody. He was never going to touch another person as long as he lived. The comfort of being held safe and close would never be worth how bad it would hurt when needing it was more than the other person could stand.

"Not yet." Buck held on. Vin was slight to start with, and Buck tried to be careful not to aggravate the fractured vertebrae, but he held on. This was no different from learning to drive - scary at first, but once you did it enough times it became second nature.

"I don't want you to touch me!" Vin finally shouted. Buck wasn't fazed.

"Why not?" he asked patiently.

"_Because._"

"That's not an answer."

"Because..." Vin said again, trying to figure it out himself. Why not?

_Why the hell not? _

"Because...I don't deserve it." The softly spoken answer threw Buck for a loop.

"What do you mean you don't deserve it? Because they raped you? Of course you deserve it."

"No, I don't. I don't deserve it." Years of pain overtook the recent trauma and Vin choked on it as tears filled his eyes.

"Of course you deserve it." Buck repeated gently. "Why wouldn't you deserve it?"

"Because -" Vin started to cry now. " - because if I deserved it, wouldn't _somebody_ have done it even once in all this time?"

It took Buck a full minute to find his voice. Never more than a couple of days passed that he didn't hug somebody, he couldn't even begin to imagine what it was like to go _years_ with no physical affection. Not even sex, Buck couldn't imagine being a kid and having no one to hold your hand when you were scared or sick, no one to pull you into their lap and rock you to sleep. No one to give you a hug when they were proud, or sorry, or happy.

Still minding Vin's broken back, Buck took a firmer hold on his fragile, shaking friend, shifting his stance slightly to support the extra weight that grief carried.

"God, I'm sorry Vin. That's a hell of a place to be alone. I'm so sorry..."

***/*/*/***

Chris was so heavily medicated that at first the voices came through in dreams. Buck and Vin hovered somewhere in the fog, talking, arguing, and Chris tried to get to them, but his body was lead and impossible to move. The tone of the Vin's voice became more distressed, more panicked, and Chris pulled himself as close to consciousness as he could get and set off on a perilous trek from couch to kitchen. His feet dragged, his head pounded, and his eyes felt swollen. On the floor beside the couch, Cowboy lay stretched out in heat-induced lethargy, managing only to softly thump his tail on the carpeted floor. Chris made it as far as the doorway to the kitchen and had to stop, leaning heavily against the wall to keep from sliding down to the floor.

He thought he must still be dreaming, he blinked several times to clear his vision, but it was real. There, twelve feet away at the kitchen sink, there stood Buck with his arms around Vin. From where he stood - precariously - Chris could tell that Vin was crying, he was saying something soft and broken to Buck, and Buck was quietly answering him.

When the reality finally cleared his drug-dimmed thinking, Chris quickly and quietly retreated to the couch, ashamed to have been peeping.

This was going to be a long day.

*/*/*/*

If Vin could just sink into the floor and die, he knew he'd be so much happier. If he thought his legs would keep him upright, he'd pull away from Buck and go upstairs. If he could just take a deep enough breath of air, he'd tell Buck it was really okay to let him go now. If only he didn't feel so safe and clean in the circle of Buck's compassion, Vin knew he wouldn't be standing here crying like a child in his big brother's arms. It was too much. It would be too much and he had to start taking care of himself.

"Don't -" the words choked out of him and into Buck's cotton shirt. " - don't tell Chris..." His voice caught in spasms of sobbing. "Don't tell him."

"Don't tell him what?" Buck asked softly. "Vin - you're going through a hell of a hard time and it's been less than seventy two hours. Chris'll understand you needing this. Hell, he's probably wondering how you held on so long."

But Vin shook his head.

"He'll think -" he stammered on a hiccup of breath. " - he'll think I'm too much trouble..."

"That'd be about the last thing Chris Larabee ever thought about you." Buck told him, thinking it was a strange comment, considering he was the one standing with Vin at the moment. "He'd move Heaven and Earth to help you and not think one thing about it."

"No - no he wouldn't." Vin insisted.

"How do you know? He ever tell you something like that?"

"...no..."

"See?" Buck stood very still holding Vin. He didn't want to twist, turn, or twinge anything that might already hurt Vin too much. "There's no way Chris'd ever think you were too much trouble." Vin was quiet after that, Buck figured - at least hoped - that the words had got through to him.

After a little while longer, the shuddering eased, the crying softened, and Buck felt Vin take a long, deep breath. Still he held on, wanting Vin to feel - to understand - that hugs weren't just for a crisis, but for calm moments as well.

"She said." Vin spoke after another minute or so of calming himself down. He made no attempt to move away from Buck.

"Who said?"

"My aunt. She told me I always want people to take care a'me. She said people get sick and tired of it. She did."

"Who's your aunt?" Buck asked, his anger instantly roused against this anonymous woman. "Who the hell is she to be telling you that?"

"Lived with her..." Vin finally, reluctantly pulled back and out of Buck's arms. Buck let him stand back, but kept his hands on Vin's shoulders. "...after my Dad died. She said I was selfish and never looked out for anybody else..." Vin wiped his sleeve across his eyes and wouldn't look up at Buck.

"Well, the polite answer is that she was wrong." Buck fumed. "And you don't want to hear the _impolite_ answer..."

"No, she's right. I could see she was right..." he sounded like maybe he wanted someone to dispute it.

"How could you see she was right?" Buck asked but got no answer. "Vin?"

"I always needed stuff." It came out a bit aggravated. "Shoes for school, or books, or if I got sick...I tried not to need anything, _I tried so hard._" his voice cracked and he roughly pulled out of Buck's grasp, muttering something about using the bathroom.

Buck let him walk away, and shook his head. When the bathroom door closed, he could hear the squeak of couch springs, and the dull 'thump thump' of Cowboy's tail. Chris was awake, or at least moving around, and Buck went in to view him.

He found Chris sitting up, head in his hands. He looked up when he heard his friend come into the room. "How bad is he?" he asked about Vin.

"Bad enough." Buck sighed. He stayed between the two rooms, keeping an eye on the bathroom door and Chris at the same time. "He ever mention an aunt to you?"

"Aunt?"

"Yeah, said he lived with her after his Dad died?" Buck elaborated but it was apparent that trying to think was making Chris' headache worse. "She told him he was selfish, told him people get tired of taking care of him. He was crying just now." Buck didn't know Chris had seen them. "Didn't want you to know, didn't want you to think he's a burden. On top of everything else that's happened to him..."

"Ah hell..." Chris bent his head down to rub his neck. "Yesterday Vin said something like that to me. Something about letting him know he was too much trouble before I threw him out. _Damn._" he let out a pained sigh. "Wondered where that was coming from."

*/*/*/*

Vin'd only fled to the downstairs bathroom to escape Buck. No - to escape spilling anymore about himself to Buck. Sometimes people didn't realize something about you, until you told them about it. Now Buck'd be adding up all the little bits and moments that would prove Aunt Diane right. And Buck and his concern and his embrace would fade away and Vin'd be left to shoulder this burden all alone. But God - it had felt good to let somebody else be strong for that little while. He soaked a washcloth in cold water and held it against his eyes.

That other night too, Saturday, with Chris holding him and saying everything would be okay. Repeating it like a prayer. Vin realized he was surprised that Chris was solid, surprised to realize that he expected other people to be insubstantial as smoke and nobody strong enough to hold him.

But they had held him, and for a few miraculous minutes, Vin wasn't alone in his misery and guilt and shame.

For a few minutes.

After awhile he tossed the washcloth in the sink and used the bathroom for its intended purpose.

*/*/*/*

"_Buck..._"

"If you don't relax Chris, it'll only hurt."

"It _already_ hurts."

"I have magic fingers I'll have you know."

"_OW!_"

Vin came out of the half-bath to find Chris sitting at the kitchen table with Buck standing behind rubbing his neck and shoulders. Larabee's shoulders were high around his ears, but - other than verbally - he wasn't fighting Buck.

"You know this always makes you feel better." Buck said.

"Only because once you stop, it feels better by comparison." Chris' voice was tight with the pain. When he saw Vin in the little hallway, Chris tapped Buck's hand to stop. "Hey - how was breakfast?" Vin looked from Chris to Buck to the floor and back to Chris. He shook his head slightly.

"Wasn't so hungry..." he said. "You okay?"

"I feel better than I look." Chris told him, and Vin blew out a breath.

"In that case - where d'you want the body sent?" he asked. Chris tried to glare but it just hurt his head too much.

"Funny guy." Chris said instead. "I have a Day Planner and a secretary you know. I can schedule a time to give you a smart answer."

Vin stayed in the relative shadows of the hallway, but they could see he was smiling.

"Well, I'm shaking in my boots Chris. Just shaking in my boots..."

Chris put his head in his hands. "Why didn't I just go to work today where I could get _paid_ to have people annoy me?" he asked, of no one in particular. Buck and Vin exchanged a look over Chris' bowed head, sharing the rare humor of Chris trying and failing miserably to maintain his tough as nails exterior.

"Hey Pard..." Buck said, both hands still resting lightly on Chris' shoulders. "I gotta be going. You want me to getcha back to the couch?"

"Naah, thanks Buck." Chris tried to turn his head up to answer, but didn't make it. "Think I'm gonna stay here awhile..."

"Okay...hey Vin - you wanna come button up the windows after me?" meaning the sliding glass doors.

"Sure..." Vin moved out of the shadows and crossed the kitchen to follow Buck out onto the deck out back. When they were out of Chris' earshot, Buck turned a very serious look on Vin.

"_Are you okay?_ Any more blood?"

"I'm okay. There's no more blood." Well, there was only a little blood, so it was only a little lie.

"Okay..." Buck pulled his keys out of his back pocket. "You take care of Chris for me, will you? See if you can't get him to eat something. His headaches always seem to rage worse on an empty stomach."

"I'll see what I can do." Vin promised.

"Okay...well kid -" and before Vin knew what was happening, Buck had drawn him into another solid, comforting hug. "I'll check on you later. Chris gave me your keys and I'll check your mail for you. All right?" Vin nodded. Briefly, just briefly, let himself return the hug.

"Okay Buck, thanks."

to be continued


	30. Chapter 30

Vin watched Buck disappear around the side of the house, then listened to the rattle of his truck fade down the empty road. When he couldn't hear it anymore, he sat on the deck and tried to sort through what all had happened in the brief space of time since he woke up - Chris was sick, JD was accusing, his world continued to shatter - but all his mind would focus on was the feeling of safety, hidden against Buck, just for awhile being able to let someone else bear the pain and heartache.

Even now, he wiped at his damp lashes, and made a futile search of his pockets for a handkerchief or Kleenex. Even now, thinking about how good it'd felt to set that lifetime of ache into someone else's arms, fresh tears filled his eyes, and he brushed them away as he heard Chris walking out to the deck.

"Vin? Remind me later on to do something, will you?" Larabee asked, wearily setting himself down next to Vin.

"Remind you to do what?"

"_Breathe,_" Chris bent his head down and put his hands over his eyes. "This has not been a good morning."

"And it ain't even ten thirty yet." Vin agreed. He wanted to shift away from Chris, automatically thinking he shouldn't sit so close to him, so close to anybody. People didn't want him too close, the thought sprang up from nowhere. People just waited for him to go away again, that was all. "You want me to go home?" he asked suddenly. Chris lifted his head and peered at him through unreliable eyes.

"Why would I want you to go home?" he asked, puzzled. Vin shrugged.

"Y'might want your life back."

It took several moments for Chris to answer. "You don't have to stay with me if you don't want to. Mary'll be home after awhile. I'm not so sick I can't stay by myself."

Vin tried to gauge Chris' response and meaning. Larabee was never a man to lie, even in small things, even by omission. Even if it would make somebody else feel better.

"Buck said I should feed you." Vin finally answered. "Said it might make your headache better." He pushed himself off the wooden step and tried to not let his aching body make him shuffle toward the house. "You want some bananas and milk?"

"Sounds good," but Chris' voice was as flat as if Vin had suggested sawdust. He stood up and followed Vin inside. Cowboy had decided the couch was a better place to sleep than the floor and didn't even open his eyes as the two men made their way to the kitchen.

Vin had spent a lot of time at Chris' house in the three years they'd known each other. But as much as Chris - and even Mary - expected him to feel at home, sometimes he hardly felt comfortable getting himself a glass of water without asking permission much less anything more. It was only because he wanted to help Chris that Vin got things together to make bananas and milk.

Chris set himself down at the kitchen table. His headache was now a dull pounding, and he thought about trying to get some work done while he was at home. Then he watched Vin a minute or so, moving slowly and precisely as he pulled bananas off the bunch, and took spoons out of the drawer. When he reached up into the cupboard for bowls, he sucked in a breath of pain, and pressed an arm around his ribs. Chris quickly changed his mind about getting work done. He went to the freezer and opened the door.

"Hey, Vin?" he asked, as he gazed at the frozen contents. "When was the last time you took a day off from work?"

"You mean, unscheduled?" Vin kept his arm pressed close, and pain echoed in his voice.

"Yeah, when's the last time you called in sick?"

"Year ago April, I had the flu or something. Seems like I call in sick one full day a year..." he obviously wondered what Chris was getting at. Larabee reached into the freezer to take out ice cream and Cool Whip.

"You know, since we're both playing hooky, I say we go for the gusto..."

*/*/*/*

"You know Chris..." Vin looked over his jumble of ice cream, whipped cream, fresh and frozen fruit, sprinkles, and God-only-knew what-all in the huge bowl he held in his hand, "No soda jerk worth his paper hat would call this a 'banana split'." He was in the recliner, turned slightly towards Chris who sat stretched out on the couch. Cowboy was nowhere to be seen.

"I told you - this is called 'Larabee Lush'. Old family secret." Chris held his own huge bowl and soup spoon.

"Chris?" he waited until Larabee looked up again to whisper loudly. "_Ain't a secret if nobody else wants to know it_."

"You get no more cashews." Chris threatened and Vin laughed.

"How's your head anyway?"

"Still hurts, but I'm so drugged up, I just don't care." Finding no napkin within reach, Chris wiped a smudge of chocolate sauce off his chin with his hand, then wiped his hand on his jeans. "How 'bout you?"

For the briefest moment, Vin felt a shudder run up from the base of his spine and out his hands, making the soup spoon rattle softly. Flitting specters whispered vile things to him. "Still workin' on it."

*/*/*/*

When Mary opened the front door into her house, it was nearly dinnertime. Billy had begged to stay with his grandparents, who just 'happened' to be going to Chuckee Cheese that night. She carried two heavy handfuls of shopping bags through the front hallway and into the family room, and she smiled at the sight that greeted her. Chris lay stretched out on the couch on his stomach, dead asleep. One arm hung over the side and rested awkwardly on the floor near a dirty but empty soup bowl and spoon. A blanket covered him haphazardly.

Vin slept as well, his sore body supported in the recliner by three oversized pillows, and covered with another blanket. In his hands he held a similarly dirty and empty bowl and spoon, and he had flecks of ice cream and chocolate sauce in one corner of his mouth.

Mary smiled at her husband and her friend, and the mess they'd made. She straightened the blankets and took possession of the bowls and spoons and underused napkins. She noted a couple of spots of dried ice cream on the carpet that would need to be cleaned up later, and the sticky fingerprints on the remote stuck between couch cushions near Chris. But she shook her head, thinking that they were worth the extra trouble, especially if it meant they were both sleeping peacefully and undisturbed.

She took the dirty dishes and opened the folding door into the kitchen.

And came nearly eye to eye with Cowboy who stood on the kitchen table, eagerly cleaning out an empty half gallon container of ice cream.

Around him - on the table, on the counters, on the floor - were strewn the wreckage of a confectionery binge. Melting ice cream containers; empty jars of chocolate sauce and butterscotch sauce and assorted sprinkles; whipped cream canisters; half-eaten packages of cookies, chocolate chips, and chopped nuts; banana peels and a tin of frozen strawberries dripping into the sink; and a package of paper napkins that looked like it exploded all over the kitchen.

Cowboy wagged his tail at seeing her, but didn't stop his mission to get every last bit of ice cream out of the box. Mary stared a moment, set her dishes on the counter and shut the sliding door over again. She held in a sigh as she walked past her husband and her friend again, took up her packages and went upstairs.

to be continued


	31. Chapter 31

Mary watched in amused silence as Vin shuffled and bleared his way through the kitchen to the downstairs half-bath. Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, he was oblivious to the devastation around him, and to Mary standing at the sink. A few minutes later, he came back down the hall and stopped in the archway, finally seeing the mess.

"Damn - how drunk were we?"

"From the wrappers and cartons, I'd say you were more likely on a sugar high." Mary told him. "No doubt 'the Larabee Lush'?"

"Oh, Mary. I'm sorry. I didn't think it looked this bad before." He took a hesitant step into the kitchen, as though wondering where to get started. "I'll clean it up."

"Vin Tanner – don't you dare. You're in no condition to be cleaning this up."

"If I was in a condition to cause the mess, I oughta be in a condition to clean it up…"

"You did have a little help from Chris and Cowboy." She pointed out.

"Cowboy? Ohh – wondered where he got to…I'm sorry, Mary. I'll clean it up." He sounded sad.

"You are not going to clean this up." Mary insisted again, and was surprised by the sad look Vin turned on her.

"You cleaned up the bathroom after me the other day, didn't you? Chris helped me clean up my apartment yesterday. You do my laundry, you're letting me stay in your house. Mary – let me do something, will you? Please?"

Mary never had any intention of making Vin clean up the kitchen – although Chris was another matter. But he looked so unhappy, and sounded so much like he wanted to have a say in his life again, that she relented.

"Well, if you'll clean off the table, that'll be a big help." She said, and was rewarded with a genuine smile. "But you're not doing anymore than I tell you that you can do."

"Thanks Mary."

*/*/*/*

A half hour later, the kitchen was spotless again, Chris still slept on the couch, dinner was in the oven – and Cowboy was still relegated to the outdoors until the intestinal effects of his own binge had passed. Mary and Vin sat down at the clean table to a cup of tea.

"Reckon he's still breathing?" he asked of Chris, gesturing toward the family room.

"Oh - he's still breathing. Don't you hear him snoring?"

"Hmm – thought it was thundering again…" He took a sip of tea, and Mary could see that his hands trembled.

She thought the day was warm enough, but he still wore Chris' favorite cotton plaid shirt over his own plain blue one. He'd rolled the cuffs back to clean the table, but overall the shirt just hung large, long, and protective on him. The bruises on his eyes seemed less distinct today, and Mary could only wonder what the rest of his body looked like, with his ribs cracked and his back broken, and how he walked like an old man if he sat too long in one place.

"How do you feel today?" she asked.

"Wore out." But he quickly added: "Not from helping you clean. Just – like I need more oxygen than I'm getting. Or something. I don't know. Just –" he breathed it out. "Wore out."

"How have you been sleeping?"

"Good." He sounded surprised. "Kinda strange. Figured I'd be getting nightmares – getting beat up like that. Buck figures I'll be due for some one a'these days, nights rather." Another sip of tea went down.

So – Buck knows, Mary thought. She reasoned that Nathan had to know, and of course Chris knew. But Vin didn't know that she knew, and she decided to keep it that way.

"Well, if you get any nightmares tonight, I'm blaming it on Chris' ice cream explosion. All that sugar, I'll be surprised if you get to sleep at all."

"Naah, I'll sleep. The painkillers tend to put me out for a while. Y'know I 'preciate you letting me stay here. Can't imagine there's many ladies out there would let their husbands bring home strays."

Vin's description of himself as a 'stray' exasperated Mary, but she kept her face neutral and her voice light.

"_Buck_ was the stray that Chris brought home. He acted just like it too. Happy, inquisitive, eager to please, totally confident that I would love him. " But she saw Vin's eyes narrow in thought, and she wondered if he was comparing himself to her description of Buck. "And of course, he came with fleas." She added. Vin nearly choked on his tea and he reached for a napkin to wipe his mouth.

"What kinda fleas are we talking about here? Wouldn't surprise me at all if Bucklin had the "sociable" kind once or twice in his life." He said, and Mary nearly choked as well.

"I wouldn't be surprised either." She laughed. "Fortunately he's never mentioned it." Hoping that Vin was in a little better mood, she went on. "I remember the first day I met you. It was more like Chris was the stray _you_ brought in, helping him carry all his boxes to his office, offering to show him around the campus, introducing him to people. You don't know how much he appreciated that."

Vin shrugged one shoulder. "I wasn't doing anything else that day anyway…"

"Come on, Vin. You know Chris would rather freeze to death in the dark than admit he might need help with his – shall we – say _people skills_."

A slight grin started in the corner of Vin's mouth.

"Ain't that the truth. Sometimes it's like you gotta remind him "please" isn't a curse word." They both laughed at that. "Well, guess I'll take the trash out to the curb for you." He stood up and went to set his empty cup in the sink.

"No, you'll hurt your back."

"Y'got wheels on your garbage cans, I'll be okay." He hefted the two plastic kitchen bags of garbage they'd collected and headed down the little hallway to the door into the garage. Vin was always surprised by how much trash a family of three could generate. If he threw out a whole bagful each week that was a lot. He punched the button to lift the garage door and one by one tugged three wheeled garbage cans out onto the driveway. His back twinged a little and he reminded himself to take a few more painkillers when he went back inside.

All in all, he felt pretty good. He'd eaten too much junk food and slept away the afternoon, waking up occasionally to catch a snip of the Munsters Marathon on Nickelodeon. He felt surrounded by friends. In an hour he'd sit down to another real dinner, not just the cereal or leftover take-out he usually had at home. Buck was going to pick up his snail mail, and later on he'd use Chris' computer to check his email. Maybe JD and Ezra blamed him, or thought less of him because of what'd happened, but if that was the worst thing he had to face in his life from now on, Vin knew he could live with it.

The driveway stretched about thirty yards from house to road, paved with blacktop, and Vin easily rolled two garbage cans at once. The newspaper stuck half out of its faded orange holder, and Vin pulled it out before heading back for the third garbage can. Not quite halfway back, he heard the roar of a motor being revved too fast, and a late model muscle car raced down the quiet rural road.

As it flashed past him, Vin thought he saw three teenage boys.

He froze where he stood, and the newspaper slipped from his hand.

_Them._ God, it was them.

*/*/*/*

Coming out of the garage lugging the plastic tub of recycling, Mary heard the car and knew it was the reckless boy from down the road, trying to impress his idiot friends or latest squeeze. More than once in the past, and more than likely in the future, Chris'd called the police on him for stunts like this. She assumed that was why the delinquent made a point of squealing past their house whenever possible.

But she saw the effect it had on Vin. Hands clenched into fists and arms stiff at his sides, his breath came in tight gasps. He was terrified. The thought hit her to wonder _if _...but surely Vin would've described his attacker to Chris, and if it was the boy down the road – she had no doubt that he would be three days dead by now.

So, Mary knew that she _knew _, but she also knew that she didn't know _everything _.

She walked down to Vin, and stopped as she came even with him, her voice reflecting an ease that she didn't feel.

"Cowboy must be sleeping off his dessert, - I'm surprised he didn't come around when he heard the garage door open..."

Vin turned to her, and she could see that he had no idea what she'd said, or maybe even that she'd said anything at all. She went on as though confident of his undivided attention.

"I think we should have dinner out on the deck again. That is if we can wake Chris up at all. Otherwise, it'll just be you and me." She saw the flash in his eyes that he was registering he'd been spoken to and needed to answer.

"Yeah...?" The word tilted up at the end like a question.

"Why don't you leave that last garbage can, until I empty the bathroom wastebaskets?"

Another few moments, while the wall of fear opened up to let in the familiar. "What? Oh – okay. I'll just –" he bent down to retrieve the paper. "_I need to take a shower..._"

***/*/*/***

Vin took himself up the stairs and into the guest room to hopefully find another set of clean clothes. He had to take a shower. It wasn't going to help; he knew that without a doubt. Just as soon as he got dressed and stepped out of Chris' bathroom, he'd feel just as dirty as he had lying on the floor of his own bathroom in all that blood and filth. Still, those brief few moments that he actually would feel clean were worth the trouble.

He found clean clothes folded on the foot of the bed, he grabbed them and went into the bathroom. Just as he set them on the sink top and started to turn away, he got a look at himself in the long mirror. The fear he saw in his own eyes startled him, and dismayed him.

"You're not a coward." He said to his reflection. "_You've never been a coward."_ He sank down to sit on the edge of the tub and rested his head in his hands. He had to get a hold of this. He had to try and get his hands around what was going on, and start dealing with it. He'd made a start of it, just before. Just before that car went screeching down the road and made him think _they_ had come after him.

_They_ had scared him.

"Scared _yourself_ y'idiot." He corrected himself. "Get a grip...what's going on? What's going on right now?" He surveyed his surroundings. "Taking a shower – again." He looked down at himself. "I'm not dirty. I _feel_ dirty, but I'm not..." and he added in a whisper, "_Chris said I'm not."_

He still had the overwhelming urge to take a shower, to feel clean if only briefly, but he shook his head to try and clear the thought. He stood up again, and winced at the pain in his right knee. Time to up his dose of painkillers. He grabbed the clean clothes off the sink, and opened the bathroom door. Down the hallway, rumbling and grumbling his way up the stairs, came Chris. His hair stood out at all angles, his wrinkled shirt hung twisted and half untucked, and his eyes and limbs were heavy and awkward with drug-induced exhaustion. As he neared the bathroom, Vin couldn't help himself.

"Monster! Monster!" he chirped in his best imitation of a frightened child. It stopped Chris in his tracks for a moment, but he only glowered at Vin, and kept on to stand in front of him.

"I'll flip you for the shower." He offered. Vin shrugged and moved out of the doorway.

"Knowing you, you'd probably drop me. All yours. I'm gonna go rest these old bones."

"Thanks…" Chris said, though the word was barely slurred out.

"Trust me, you're doing _me_ the favor…"

Vin tossed his clothes back onto the foot of the bed, and then waited until Chris had gotten his own clean clothes and found his way into the bathroom, before heading downstairs.

"Mary? You need help with anything?" he asked around the kitchen door to where Mary was washing vegetables at the sink. "Otherwise, think I might dose myself up and sit for awhile. Sleeping Beauty needed the shower more'n I did."

"Oh, no Vin. Thank you. Everything's all set. Here –" She dried her hands on the dishtowel and reached up into the cupboard for a glass. "There's a gallon of water in the fridge to take your pills."

She smiled at him, and sounded perfectly natural, but he pretty well figured she was surprised he wasn't the one in the shower right now. He nodded his thanks and filled the glass to take the painkillers.

"You let me know if you need anything else." She added.

"Thanks Mary. Reckon I'm good for the while…"

She took the glass back from him to put in the sink and he went into the family room to deposit himself carefully back into the recliner. He set one pillow under his right knee, one behind his back, and the third he tucked in at his shoulder to rest his head against.

For all the sleep he'd done so far already today, Vin could feel the weariness tugging behind his eyelids. It'd be worse once the painkillers kicked in. He thought about asking Mary to wake him up for dinner if he fell asleep, but calling out to her would require more energy than he had in reserve. So, figuring he'd eat when he ate, he closed his eyes and turned his face into the softness of the pillow.

A few minutes later, he was gone.

*/*/*/*

Ezra walked out of Butler Hall to find JD waiting for him under an ancient oak tree on the edge of the University Green. "Did you tell him?" JD asked as he fell into step beside Ezra. Though Standish had a reasonable idea what was being referred to, he feigned ignorance.

"Tell what, and to whom?"

"You know – about Vin!" JD exclaimed, and then abruptly lowered his voice, casting his eyes around them to see if anyone had heard. "Didn't you tell the Dean what happened to Vin?" Ezra held back a sigh. He was in no humor to be discussing this. He would never be in a humor to discuss it.

"No, Mr. Dunne. I have not enlightened Judge Travis as to the currently sorry state of Mr. Tanner."

"You didn't?" JD was clearly surprised. "Boy, I thought you'd tell him first thing."

This made Ezra stop and turn toward JD. "Mr. Dunne, I would no more impart that information to Judge Travis than I would feel compelled to relate to him the evening young Miss Wells found you in one of the bays of the Maintenance garage with that young woman who claimed she was applying for a job in Security."

"I – we – she – I didn't – she wanted but I -" Annoyed with tripping over his own list of excuses, JD demanded: "What has that go to do with anything Ezra?"

Now Ezra released the sigh, shaking his head. "You wouldn't want your old flames and new peccadilloes paraded before a cast of thousands, or even dozens. No more would Mr. Tanner wish his private…_dealings_… to be publicized to people so wholly unconnected to the matter." With that, Ezra resumed walking across the Green, purposely increasing his pace in an attempt to flee both JD and the topic of conversation. But JD kept up.

"But – Ezra – you mean – what you said – you think –" he finally grabbed Ezra's arm to make him stop walking "You mean you think Vin _wanted_ it?" Standish turned a very puzzled look on him.

"Mr. Dunne, you yourself have expressed a sincere and unshakeable belief that Mr. Tanner _let_' himself be attacked. I see no difference in what you feel happened, and what I feel happened." When a few shocked seconds passed and JD was unable to answer, Ezra headed for his car one more time.

One more time, JD caught up with him. "No, Ezra! What I meant was – I mean I don't think he – it's just that I never –" But Ezra had had enough and snapped:

"JD! Unless you are able to speak in complete sentences, _will you please just leave me alone?_"

JD stopped dead and could only stare in surprise at the quickly retreating form of Ezra Standish.

*/*/*/*

Chris' arms and legs flatly refused to cooperate as he tried to get dressed after his shower. Three times his arm missed the sleeve into his shirt. Twice he had to rest his hand on the tile wall to keep his balance. Apparently his fingers had lost the strength necessary to button the button on his jeans, and tucking his shirt in was entirely out of the question.

So, he gave up and wobbled his way back down the hallway, which now seemed to flicker before his eyes. The only option was to close his eyes and feel his way down the staircase, until he was back on solid footing in the downstairs front hallway. He felt a little steadier there, and walked through the family room toward the kitchen. He saw Vin comfortably folded into the recliner, and went in search of his wife.

He found her at the stove, taking dinner out of the oven. Standing behind her, Chris wrapped his arms around her and leaned heavily against her, resting his head on her shoulder.

"Honey, if you've got something particular on your mind, let me shut the oven door."

"Nothing particular." He breathed out. "Just tired and wanna rest here…"

"Okay honey, you rest there." She patted the hands that were locked in front of her, and turned her head to lay a kiss on the damp hair that tickled her ear.

"Vin okay?" Chris asked. "Think he was gonna take a shower, he let me have it instead."

"He's okay honey…" Mary decided not to tell Chris about the idiot teenager's latest antics until he felt better. "He helped me take out the trash, and insisted on helping me clean up the mess you guys left in the kitchen."

Chris lifted his head and peered at her curiously.

"What mess?"

to be continued


	32. Chapter 32

Buck picked through the keys on Vin's key ring until he found one that looked like it would fit the narrow mailbox in the front hallway of the apartment building. Two days worth of mail amounted to a cable bill, a Wal-Mart ad, a neighborhood flyer about the now-defunct street festival, and a postcard reminder from a veterinarian sent to the previous occupant of the apartment that it was time for their cat to get her yearly checkup.

Tucking the small bundle into his shirt pocket, he went up to have a quick look through the apartment. He tested the door first; checking that the new lock actually held, then let himself inside. An eerie tingle ran down his spine, the way it always did anytime he had to go back to a crime scene after the initial investigation and mop up. Too quiet, the place was too quiet. It had the same dull, shocked appearance that Vin'd had this morning at breakfast, like a thing frightened, holding absolutely still, desperate not to be discovered.

At his feet, on the carpet, Buck found a homemade envelope that'd obviously been shoved under the door. Vin's name was written in a curlicue style, and surrounded by stickers of happy faces and kittens.

"_Maria._" Buck smiled to himself and picked up the overstuffed letter to slide into his pocket with the others.

Nothing seemed out of place in the apartment. The smell of cleanser and vinyl still hung in the air, but Buck thought he would always smell the blood, always see the stark, gruesome handprints on the bathroom wall. He wondered if Vin would ever be able to live here again. If the same thing had happened to him, Buck didn't think he could.

There didn't seem to be anything that needed doing in the silent rooms, so he let himself out again, locked all the locks behind, and headed back to his truck. He'd managed to find a parking spot in front of the building, and as he got to the foot of the staircase, he met Nettie coming through the glass doors.

They both froze.

Buck knew that Vin cared about Nettie like family, and he always thought Nettie shared the sentiment, but after JD's remarks that Nettie thought it'd be better to die than be raped, Buck wasn't feeling too friendly toward her at the moment.

"How is he?" Nettie asked. Even though Buck could hear the genuine concern in her voice, he wasn't about to let her go easy.

"He's at Chris' house. Call him if you want to find out."

He saw her stiffen at the chill in his attitude.

"He there by himself?" She tried anyway. Buck wondered if she just didn't want to go through Larabee to get to Vin, or if she was concerned that Vin might've spent the day alone.

"I took him out to breakfast, and Chris took the day off to be with him..." No sense pussyfooting around the unspoken awkwardness. "I know you know what happened to him, Nettie. I know you told Casey you'd rather she died than let it happen to her. I haven't known you very long, and I know Vin puts a world of admiration on you - but let me tell you one thing, just so we're clear on it from here on out." Buck didn't make it a practice of speaking so bluntly to a lady, and he had to set his heart and his spine specifically to the task.

"Vin's making his way through hell right now, and he doesn't need anybody - and I DO mean _anybody_ - adding to the burden he's already shouldering. He's my friend and I'll do anything - and I DO mean _anything_ - to keep him safe and sane. You're entitled to your beliefs Nettie - as asinine as they are - but you even so much as _once _tell Vin he'd be better off dead and so help me -"

"You just hold it right there!" Nettie interrupted him. "How dare you talk to me like that!"

"I'll talk to you anyway I see fit!" Buck started to yell, then - worried that they'd be overheard - he dropped his voice to an angry whisper. "He's got enough to worry about without worrying every time he sees you that you'd rather he was dead. How dare I? How dare you? How dare you even think such a thing?"

"I do NOT wish he was dead!" Nettie insisted. "I just said - I just thought..." her voice trailed off, and Buck hoped she'd hang herself. "He _didn't_ die, so that's all right..." she offered.

Buck gave a sarcastic huff.

"Well be still my heart. _'Hey Vin - good news. Nettie says it's okay they didn't kill you...'_"

It was an unaccustomed feeling to Buck to be so angry at a woman; the depth of it worried him and he decided he had to get out of there before it got the best of him.

"I'll be sure to convey your regards." He snapped. He pushed past her and headed for his truck. She followed him out.

"Buck - wait -_ please_."

He turned then, hand on his door handle, and waited for her to come to the truck.

"How is he?" she asked again. Buck stared at her a moment, weighing the responses he might give her. The ones first to his tongue were sarcastic, but he got an idea that wasn't the way to go.

"He's scared Nettie." He kept his voice soft and low. "He's hurt and he's scared. You know they fractured his spine? Nearly fractured his skull? He's got stitches in his scalp, and bruises over near every inch of him. Deep bruises, a lot of them broke blood vessels, especially on his legs." Buck repeated what Vin had told him this morning at breakfast. "He can't hardly stand up straight, but he does it anyway 'cause he doesn't want to be any trouble to anybody. He's not scared of those bastards coming back after him Nettie - he's scared of people thinking he wanted it or he deserved it, people thinking he didn't fight hard enough." Buck opened his door and got into the truck as he gave Nettie his parting shot. "_He's scared of people like you_."

*/*/*/*

Tucked into the recliner, resting against pillows, covered with a blanket, safe and warm - Vin began to dream. Suddenly finding himself at St. Michael's University, familiar buildings swayed and melted in an unfamiliar atmosphere. Vin needed to get back to his apartment. Somehow, trapped on the University Green, somehow he knew if he could just cross the sidewalk, he'd be back in his apartment. There, he saw it, up ahead. His apartment door, shimmering just out of reach. Feeling as though his whole body was filled with liquid lead, Vin dragged himself toward the door and safety. Finally getting his hand on the knob, he felt someone grab his shoulder and a leering voice started to speak.

_"You gonna eat dinner?" _

With a shocked gasp, Vin jolted awake - to find Cowboy, paws on the arm of the chair, staring down at him. Vin would almost swear the dog looked concerned.

"Cowboy?" he asked. The dog wagged his tale and slobbered a wet lick across Vin's cheek.

"Did you just call me cowboy?"

Vin heard the voice somewhere above and behind him. Pressing one hand against the dog to keep his ribs safe, he turned his head to see Chris off his left shoulder. He looked a whole lot better than the last time Vin laid eyes on him.

"Thought the dog took up talkin'..." he said.

"You got drugs you haven't told me about?" Chris asked. He took a few steps to come into Vin's line of sight, and lightly swatted Cowboy off the chair. "Dinner's ready - wind's starting to kick up outside though, so we're eating in the kitchen."

"Okay..." Vin surveyed his situation. "Give me a hand up?" He asked it quietly, seriously.

"Sure." Chris took the blankets and pillows as Vin handed them over and set them on the couch. He waited for Vin to pull the lever folding the recliner back upright, then put a hand under his elbow to help him stand. "Getting old?"

Without missing a beat, Vin answered "Must be - I got _olllld_ friends..." He stifled a gasp as he pulled himself upright.

"Yeah, but Buck isn't here yet." Chris said it lightly, but he didn't take his eyes off Vin. "And I'm in my prime..." He said it facetiously, giving Vin the chance to groan both in jest and in earnest as he finished straightening up.

"You're not only old - you're senile..." Vin looked around the room, like he'd forgotten something.

"What is it?" Chris asked.

"I don't know - felt like - I think I was having a bad dream when you woke me up. Stuck at work - trying to get back home. Somebody tried to grab me..." He looked around again. "Was just a dream though, hunh?"

"You're bound to get 'em."

"Yeah...not looking forward to it..." Vin looked down at himself, tugging at the shirts he wore and brushing at nothing on the front of them. God - he wanted to take a shower so bad. "Might wash up before dinner first, I think."

"You can wash your hands at the kitchen sink." Chris said, and Vin considered it.

"Yeah..." he turned his steps toward the kitchen, shuffling the first few steps until his body loosened up enough to walk. Chris shadowed behind him. Just a few steps from the kitchen doorway, Cowboy's ears pricked up at a sound only he could hear, and he took off roaring toward the back door to the garage.

Vin froze at the sound and movement. He felt his heart pound against his chest, and sweat stung his skin. _Them_ - he tried not to think it. _~themthemthemthem~_ He spun where he stood and nearly bumped into Chris.

"I - I - I need to take a shower."

"No you don't." Chris answered patiently. "You had a shower this morning."

"I do - I have to take a shower. I have to get clean. _Please Chris_?"

"No..." Chris had to try hard to not be moved by the plea in Vin's voice. "C'mere." He gently took Vin's arm and guided him back into the family room, so they could talk privately, as he heard Buck calling to Cowboy as he came into the house. "Vin - c'mon, we talked about this..." Chris had to bend down to try to meet Vin's eyes, but Tanner wouldn't look at him. He kept his eyes on his stocking feet, and crossed his arms defensively across his chest. "You're not dirty."

"I _feel_ dirty."

"And I feel eighteen - flip you for it..." Chris was almost desperate when Vin didn't answer. "...or are you afraid I'll drop you...?"

"Feel like I'm going crazy Chris." Vin said softly. "One minute everything feels fine, next minute everything's coming apart. I can't keep track of it all. There's no center, nothing to hold onto..."

Chris put his hands on Vin's shoulders and said his name to make him look up. He could feel him trembling under his hands. "There _is_ something to hold onto Vin. I won't let you come apart. Okay?"

Vin nodded. "Okay."

to be continued


	33. Chapter 33

Nettie walked back to her house, so deep in thought she didn't see the people she passed, and didn't hear their greetings. She set herself on her top step, and sat there a long time while Buck's words echoed in her head. _Vin's scared of people like you..._ Her? Vin was scared of _her_?

She thought back to the first time they'd met - the first time after the lost dog incident. It was the first day after that same big storm. Walking down to the corner drugstore, she saw Vin out front of his apartment building, shoveling a path from the front door to the mailbox at the curb. Behind him, the door opened, and a frail, crumpled woman, swathed in scarves and shawls and earmuffs, and wearing bedroom slippers on her feet, tottered out into the path with one slim envelope in her hand.

"Now Mrs. Stempniak!" he'd scolded the elderly lady. "Y' know I coulda had that letter mailed for you an hour ago!" He stabbed the shovel into the snow bank and hurried to take her arm. "Don't need to be so all-fired independent all the time you know..."

Still, the gentleness of his actions spoke louder than his words, as he guided her to the mailbox and held the slot open for her, then waited patiently as her tremulous hand took forever to slip the letter inside. When it was accomplished, withered fingers came up to pat his cheek, and he helped her back to the door and watched until she must've gotten back to her first floor apartment. Then he took up the shovel and began his task again.

Now, in the wind and the heat, Nettie sat on her steps and realized - "_I really do wish Vin was dead!" _

"Aunt Nettie?" Casey's voice broke through. Nettie looked up to see her niece standing at the foot of the steps in front of her. "What's going on?"

"Casey! How long have you been standing there?" Nettie felt disoriented to find herself back in the present, when that past memory had seemed so real. "What time is it? I put dinner on to keep it warm..." she got up and headed for the front door. Casey followed Nettie into the house.

"What were you talking about, you wish Vin was dead?"

"Nothing honey. Nothing. Just something I've got to work out in my mind..."

*/*/*/*

Buck loved coming to Chris and Mary's house. Billy always greeted him with a hug, Cowboy always greeted him with a kiss - and Mary usually greeted him with both. Though not blood related, they were his family. Even Chris. Maybe especially Chris. There were times when Buck referred to Chris as 'my brother' when relating an anecdote to someone who didn't know any different.

He always looked forward to coming to this house.

Tonight Cowboy greeted him first, jumping up to have Buck catch his front paws, and leaning up as far as he could, trying to plant an excited wet lick on him. His tail thudded loudly against the washing machine, and he grumbled low in his throat, as though trying to speak his greeting.

Mary greeted Buck next, wrapping one arm around him and leaning her head into his shoulder.

"It's good to see you..." she said.

Her tone made him ask, "What's going on?"

She gave him a look, but shook her head. "Nothing. Just glad to see you..." She gave him an extra hard squeeze. "Chris is in the family room, waking Vin up for dinner."

"Well, I'd go give him a hand, but I sure do like it here..." Buck sensed there was something more going on, and he wrapped both arms around her. "Which one of you isn't OK?" He asked. She was about to answer him, when they heard Chris behind them, clearing his throat.

"Uh - Buck? Think maybe you could let go of my wife?"

"Aw Chris - I'm just keeping her warm till you got back!" Buck said. He gave Mary a fast kiss before releasing her. "Well Chris - you're looking a might more alive than when I left here this morning. Vin?" he looked to his friend, standing just behind Chris' left shoulder in the kitchen doorway. Vin looked just as bad as Buck had left him that morning, faded and worn down. "Got your mail for you."

"Good - thanks." But he made no move to step away from Chris. Buck pulled one envelope from his pocket and walked it over.

"Just a couple of adverts and this...got yourself one sweet little friend in Maria there..." he held out the overstuffed package. Vin hesitated, then brought his hand up to accept the gift. A tired smile played on his face.

"Did you see her while you were there? She doing OK?"

The question made Buck think of who he _did_ see when he was there, but that bit of information was best left until much later.

"No, didn't see her. She slipped that under your door."

Vin eyed the bundle in his hand. "I must got a space under that door a foot high ...thanks Buck..." he said again.

"Well dinner's ready." Mary said. "Grab a seat."

As they each got themselves situated at the table, Buck made a mental note to get Mary alone for a little chat. He had a pretty good notion that she knew what was going on, and he wanted her opinion of Vin's state of mind and being.

"Where's Billy?" he asked, as the room was deadly quiet.

"He's spending the night with Mom and Dad." Mary told him. "They're going to drop him off tomorrow morning."

"Sure - if they can pry him away from Chuckee Cheese and Veggie Tales!" Buck said as he took himself some green beans, and then tried to hand the bowl on to Vin, who still stared at Maria's envelope. When Vin realized what was going on, he stuffed the envelope into a pocket. He had that look on his face, like he'd had at breakfast, as though he was surprised to realize he was expected to eat.

"Sorry." He mumbled as he took the bowl. "Been sleeping all day, think my brain is still half a step behind..."

"They had the 'Larabee Lush'." Mary whispered conspiratorially.

"Please -" Chris said, as though he was in pain. "My head - I just got it stapled back on."

"Larabee Lush, hunh?" Buck gave him a look. "All that chocolate sauce and whipped cream - it's not your _head_ I'm worried about!"

*/*/*/*

"Aunt Nettie? Are you all right?" For the second time that afternoon, Casey's voice brought Nettie out of a reverie.

"What honey? No - nothing. I'm fine."

"You still thinking about Vin?" They sat at the dining room table. Nettie's food was entirely untouched.

"What?"

"Are you thinking about Vin? You were saying something about him on the front step before...you know..." Casey was reluctant to repeat it. "You said you wished he was dead..."

"That is not what I said!"

"I heard you Aunt Nettie - plain as day. You were sitting on the step when I got home and -"

But Casey's narration was cut off when Nettie abruptly stood up and left the room. After another moment, she heard her Aunt go out the back door. She followed her out, and found Nettie standing at the slat fence that surrounded her wilting garden.

"What is it, Aunt Nettie?"

The older woman let out a deep breath. "It's a lot of things honey. I've been trying to get it all straight in my mind, but it's just not coming together."

"About Vin?" Casey tried again, cautiously. "About what happened to him?"

"That's one of the things..."

"What else?" Casey prompted, when Nettie didn't go on. Finally, her Aunt turned to sit on the back steps. Casey sat next to her.

"Casey - when I was your age, having a child out of wedlock was something to be hidden, not celebrated. Children of divorced parents were shunned at school and in society." She let out another breath. "In an era like that, I was raised to believe that 'good girls don't get raped, and bad girls shouldn't complain when they do.' It seems so archaic now, but the girls in my sorority would say 'death before defilement' or something equally as stupid. One of our sisters, my freshman year of college, one of our sorority sisters - she was just a tiny little thing, probably not even one hundred pounds soaking wet. She was attacked one night, walking home." A shudder ran through her body.

"You don't have to tell me this, Aunt Nettie."

"No, I do. He did horrific things to her Casey, and he left her for dead under a pile of leaves..." She had to try a few times before the next sentence came out, and her voice wasn't strong. "She died Casey - and we all thought she was better off. We actually thought 'thank God she died instead of having to live with that.'" Nettie went on as though she couldn't believe her own words. "I was happy for her that she died. And I wonder if I was disappointed that Vin didn't. God help me Casey - I think I really wished that Vin was dead."

to be continued


	34. Chapter 34

"Vin?" Buck's voice brought him back to the table. "You want another biscuit 'fore I set them back?"

Surprised, Vin surveyed the situation. Buck was holding the wire basket of baking powder biscuits, offering them to Vin. He looked down at his plate. What had he eaten? Most of whatever he'd put on his plate. Not meatloaf…chicken, maybe? Whatever it was, he'd eaten it, and he still felt okay. He could chance another biscuit.

He nodded and took one. "Thanks."

"You bet…hey Chris – you remember that time we decided to try making biscuits in the dutch oven over an open fire in your yard? How long ago was that? The bottoms were charcoal and the tops were raw." Buck laughed, but tried to remember it more specifically. "Musta been right after we met. I remember wondering what I'd gotten myself in for…was twelve years ago, wasn't it?"

"What d'you mean, what _you_ were in for?" Chris asked. He added to Vin: "I came outta my house to find flames three feet high, and some fool standing there with a can of kerosene. You know, Buck, they have laws against open fires within city limits. I'm lucky I survived this long knowing you."

"I recall saving your life." Buck tried.

"It doesn't count if you were the one who almost killed me…" Chris retorted.

As they talked, Vin calculated. Twelve years. Chris and Buck had known each other twelve years. Vin'd only known them three years. Only a quarter of the time. That'd be like somebody knowing Chris nine months to Vin's three years. Hardly any time at all. Buck would always be Chris' oldest friend, and Vin would always be –

_Dirty_.

The word just pushed itself into his head. He didn't want to think that, Chris kept telling him that it wasn't true; he tried to remember exactly what Chris said that made so much sense saying that Vin wasn't dirty. Chris knew what happened to Vin, and he didn't think Vin was dirty. Did that make sense? Maybe Chris was lying? But Chris didn't lie. But maybe he would lie to his friends? But Buck was his oldest friend, and Vin was just his most recent friend. And maybe Chris was just waiting until Vin went away because nobody ever stayed in Vin's life more than a few years and those few years with Chris were pretty much done and so maybe Chris wasn't really lying he was only maybe stalling and Vin was _dirty_ and not really Chris' friend and –

A gentle hand on his arm and Mary's voice saying his name brought Vin's wild train of thought to a screeching halt. He looked up to find her looking at him, concerned. Chris and Buck had stopped talking as well.

"Vin?" she asked gently. "Are you okay? You look like you're in pain."

"I just –." He looked briefly from face to face, seeing only concern. "Just got lost – trying to remember something is all. I'm okay…"

"I think you been spending too much time around Chris." Buck joked. "He gets lost tying his shoes…"

"Buck - you got lost once in your own apartment building." And the joshing started up again. Mary gave Vin's arm a strong squeeze, and seemed to search his face a bit before smiling.

Vin returned the smile hesitantly. He knew Mary didn't know what happened, so he didn't have to worry that she'd be deciphering what exactly he might've got lost thinking about. He didn't have to worry that she'd know he was dirty. He took a chance and placed his hand over hers, something he'd never done before, and smiled at her more confidently.

*/*/*/*

Ezra let himself into his duplex, stopping briefly to pull his mail out of the mailbox hanging next to the front door. Scanning his bundle, he immediately dropped most of the envelopes into the wastebasket that sat inside the door for just that purpose. A couple of bills, still no postcard from his mother, and the rest anonymous offers and requests. One by one he let them drop from his hand into the waiting receptacle.

He pushed out of his mind every thought about Vin and the whole sorry mess. He wasn't going to think about it. He told himself repeatedly that he wasn't going to think about it. There was nowhere to go with it, no way to make sense of what his intellect was telling his feelings.

Vin was his friend.

_Apparently not._

Vin hadn't changed.

_He had changed irrevocably._

It wasn't Vin's fault.

_Well, it was somebody's fault._

Wasn't it?

Setting his bills and briefcase onto the desk in the living room, Ezra walked out to the kitchen, intending to start dinner. He found his cupboards and refrigerator nearly bare, but he was in no mood to go out, so he made do with leftover tortellini. He sat down to eat at his kitchen table, with a bottle of water and some sliced vegetables, but he'd hardly gotten the first swallow down when it occurred to him that Vin had given him these vegetables from the garden Nettie let him have in her modest backyard.

Ezra pushed that thought – and the vegetables – away.

He ate some pasta, and drank some water, and found himself staring at the cupboard door that Vin had fixed when it wouldn't stay shut. So Ezra turned his eyes another way.

Onto the chair railing that Vin had installed by himself without question or complaint that Saturday when Ezra had been called into work.

And the floor where Vin replaced the gouged tile that the landlord never got around to. The refrigerator that wouldn't sit level until Vin shimmed it. The sink that kept Ezra awake every night for two weeks until Vin –

Abruptly, Ezra pushed himself away from the table and his dinner, and stormed out of the kitchen. Everywhere he looked, he seemed to remember some kindness or skill that Vin had bestowed upon him, and never for any payment more than dinner, when Ezra could get him to accept even that. He stood a moment in his living room, not sure what to do. There, on his wall, tucked into a corner of the frame of his Matisse print, Ezra saw the birthday card Vin had sent him not two weeks ago.

Even Maude hadn't sent him a card yet.

The Matisse print jumped as Ezra slammed the front door behind himself.

*/*/*/*

When dinner ended, Buck and Chris cleared off the table and Mary let Cowboy outside. Vin sat on the edge of the recliner and looked at the overstuffed envelope Buck had given him from Maria. He almost didn't want to open it; he was afraid that the simple and utterly heartfelt emotion he knew was inside would be too much to bear. Better to wait until he was by himself and no one to see if he cried. Lord, he'd cried enough today alone to last him the rest of his life. He was surprised he had any moisture left in his body at all. Surprised even more that he could look at Buck, or even Chris, in the eye after breaking down in front of them the way he had.

Neither of them mentioned it though, or even seemed to remember. They treated him the way they always did. Except for the occasional instance of being a little more thoughtful than usual. That was all.

That and not mentioning when Vin stuck closer to them than usual, or stood behind them as if they were a shield.

Or the gentle verbal nudges that brought him back to reality when his thoughts took off on their own.

Or cleaning his apartment and reconstructing his bathroom –

Vin stood up. Damn, he didn't even need to read the letter to be almost reduced to tears. Just holding it in his hand brought it on. He shoved it back into his pocket and went into the kitchen.

***/*/*/***

Buck hated that Vin had been hurt, hated even more the way that he'd been hurt, and the fact that the scum who did it would probably never be brought to justice. He knew how bad and how long Vin would hurt, and how rocky his recovery was going to be.

But he did like seeing Chris in protective mode.

He'd watched him the day before at Vin's apartment, sticking close by Vin when he could, keeping long distance vigil when he had to. Chris'd sure come a long way from the nearly motionless concern he'd shown Steve just a few years before. Not that Chris didn't try with Steve, not that ultimately it would've made any difference in what happened. But it was nice to see that he'd overcome his stoic compassion, to offer a more hands-on kind of support.

Vin came into the kitchen while they were clearing the table, and Chris automatically pulled out a chair and tapped the back of it that Vin should have a seat, as he collected silverware. "Don't have ice tea, got some lemonade?" he offered.

"No thanks, I'm fine." Vin took the chair.

"Still kind of windy out, but I was gonna take Buck out back, show him that swampy spot I've got at the property line. You feeling up to a walk?"

"Sure." Vin responded, and Chris lightly patted his shoulder as he walked past.

Knowing now what Buck learned about Vin this morning, it was just as interesting to watch Vin's reaction to Chris' concern. Vin watched Chris move back and forth across the kitchen, as he sat there in Chris' shirt, with Maria's letter still stuffed in the pocket. He was keeping his hands curled up into the too-long sleeves, and when the table was clear and Chris asked, "Ready?" Vin nodded, and kept close to Chris as they headed for the sliding glass doors and the backyard.

Buck followed them out, smiling a little to himself to see Chris watching that Vin got through the doorways OK, and navigated the family room furniture without incident, and finally shadowed him down the stairs off the deck.

Yep, the new improved Chris wasn't too bad.

*/*/*/*

"Ezra – why didn't you tell me you were here?" Inez had been surprised when her evening waitress reported that he was out front. "This isn't your usual night."

"Yes, well…" Ezra looked around the neat, busy restaurant, and then back up at Inez who stood next to his table. "I needed to be somewhere…familiar…"

"What's wrong?" she took the seat in the booth across from Ezra. "Something was wrong last night too…"

"Have you ever…? That is to say – was there ever a time – in your experience, did anyone…" Ezra gave up with a sigh. "Apparently the short answer is that I have no idea what's wrong." He sat back as the waitress served him his order of Guinness.

"You're not eating?"

"No…I find my appetite has abandoned me." But said nothing else. Inez shook her head, and patted his hand as she stood up to go back to work.

"Ezra – you look as though a _friend _has abandoned you…" and Ezra stared at her, even long after she had disappeared back into the kitchen.

*/*/*/*

Vin enjoyed being out in the wind, out in the yard, out with Chris and Buck. The two men talked about the problems of rain and drainage as they headed for the back property line, and Vin let the sound roll around him as his mind went off in another direction.

He counted the hours since he'd been attacked. Friday to Saturday to Sunday to Monday. Seventy-two hours and some change now. Maybe seventy-five hours. It seemed like months and it seemed like just this minute, and it seemed like it would last the rest of his life. His body still hurt, every single part of it. He thought maybe walking would ease the stiffness some and if not – or even if – he could take another shower when they got back to the house.

But worse than the physical pain he could numb with painkillers were the subtle and unpleasant feelings of doom and loathing and filth that no amount of showers or reassurance seemed to take care of for long. It all felt so new and raw.

As long as he could be physically close to Chris, everything seemed okay and all things seemed possible. Or if Chris wasn't nearby, as long as Buck was there, Vin still felt safe, and even the premeditated hug didn't seem so bad now. But Vin knew he couldn't spend the rest of his life – or even the rest of this week – tagging alongside of them like a little kid being unwillingly babysat by his old brothers.

No - not unwillingly.

Not on either side.

Chris'd been nothing but supportive right from the first second he'd laid eyes on Vin Saturday afternoon. Even after he'd found out, or figured it out. If anything, he was even more considerate and supportive once he did know. Buck was a walking teddy bear that made everything better just by being within arm's reach. Vin wondered where his empathy and compassion came from, but he didn't want to question it. He was just glad it was there.

*/*/*/*

When Inez came back to the booth almost an hour later, Ezra had barely touched the dark alcohol in front of himself. He stared at nothing – or something – in the bench seat across the table. When she asked if he was all right, it took a moment for him to realize he was being spoken to, and he turned his eyes up to her.

"I beg your pardon?"

"What's wrong Ezra?" She took the seat again across from him.

"I assure you, I am in the utmost health and -."

"You look like someone ran over your dog Ezra. After yesterday – I know something is going on." When he still hesitated, she asked, "Is there anything I can do?"

He took a deep breath and let it out. "No, thank you, Inez. While I do appreciate the offer, one must know what is wrong before one can determine what will help. I wouldn't want you to waste your effort." He took a sip then of his Guinness; he didn't even taste it.

"It wouldn't be a wasted effort Ezra. If you do figure out what's wrong, or what I can do to help, you let me know."

*/*/*/*

Even while he talked to Buck as they walked along, Chris kept an eye on Vin. He had his hands shoved into his jeans pockets and walked a little hunched and stiff next to him and Buck. He had a perplexed look on his face and didn't seem to be listening to them. He was about to say something to draw Vin into the conversation when Buck did it.

"Vin – you ever have a problem like this at the University?" indicating the swampy ground in front of them.

Chris was grateful for the change that came over Vin. The perplexed look disappeared and was replaced by the thoughtful, concentrated expression Chris was used to seeing on Vin's face. Vin turned his full attention on Buck and told him about a similar situation at the school and how they'd solved it and why he didn't think that would work in this instance, and Chris watched Vin talk to Buck, and he watched Buck listen to Vin.

He was actually kind of surprised by the care Buck was taking of Vin. Not that Buck didn't have a tender side to him – he had the biggest heart Chris could imagine. But something like this, what had happened to Vin – well, they sure had enough proof in the rest of their group of friends how many ways something like this could be distorted. But Buck never missed a beat.

Vin seemed to appreciate his concern and kindness, and Chris sure appreciated knowing there was somebody else Vin could turn to if necessary. Wouldn't do to wall himself off. Ultimately that wouldn't help at all. Chris knew that from his own God-awful experience. Vin had friends, and his friends would see him through this.

to be continued


	35. Chapter 35

While Chris and Buck continued to discuss drainage and property lines, Vin turned to look back toward the house. They were a distance away, maybe a quarter of a mile. He wondered if he could walk that far by himself. Not that he was in any hurry to get back to the house, he just wondered if he could walk that far all alone.

He thought about it. He pictured himself doing it. At first it was OK; the guys were behind him, the house was in front of him. No problem. But then it was too far away from Chris and Buck, and he couldn't see himself getting any closer to the house, and he could feel the panic rising in him as though he were really walking out there alone.

Stupid, he knew. No one could "_get_" him out here. _They_ weren't anywhere around. He knew that. His mind knew it. Now if he could just get his heart and soul to believe it, he'd be all set.

"Ready to head back?" Chris' voice broke into Vin's thoughts.

"Uh – yeah. Guess so…"

The three of them took a slow walk back to the house, and stopped when they got to the deck. Mary came out of the house, Cowboy behind her.

"Well, reckon I'll head on home." Buck said. "Vin – you want me to keep your keys, check your mail again tomorrow?"

"You don't have to do that Buck. We – I – it's not that important…" But really, Vin liked the idea of Buck just stopping by to keep an eye on things.

"I practically drive by there anyway. It'll give me an excuse to invite myself over for dinner again."

"Like you need an excuse." Mary told Buck. She reached up to give him a hug goodbye. "Take care of yourself."

"I will." Buck gave her a solid hug. He gave Vin a very brief but firm one-armed hug. "See you tomorrow Vin…" and then he turned to Chris with a playful look in his eyes.

"Don't even think about it." Chris warned him.

"Come on – don't be shy!" Buck got hold of him before he could go too far, grabbing Chris in a bear hug from behind. "See! Nothing to be afraid of!"

"Let me go!" Chris insisted, but he was laughing. "I'm a married man…"

"You're an _old_ man." Buck corrected him, finally letting go. "C'mon, _old man_, walk me out to my truck…Mary, Vin – I'll see you tomorrow…" and the two friends headed around the house to the driveway, Cowboy happily keeping pace with them. When they got to the trucks, Buck stopped.

"How was he today?" he asked. Chris shrugged.

"Back and forth. He was bad this morning after I told him about JD and Ezra. He was okay after you - _talked_ to him. He slept a lot during the afternoon. He was having a bad dream when I woke him up for dinner. He seems okay now." Chris shrugged again. "Back and forth."

"Yeah…I know how it is." Buck agreed. "So…how are you?"

"Me?" The question obviously surprised Chris.

"_You._" Buck insisted. "Seeing one of your best friends going through hell isn't easy on a person." And he added quietly, "_I oughtta know_." He gazed at Chris, raising an eyebrow in question. "Been a long time Larabee, since you had the mother of all headaches."

"I didn't sleep well last night."

"Maybe didn't sleep at all?"

"…maybe…" Chris allowed.

Buck accepted that small admission. "So, what's the plan for tomorrow?"

"I don't know – don't know if he'd be up to spending some time at work, don't know as I care to leave him here by himself all day either." Chris said. "If it comes to it, I can get work done at home. If I _really_ have to, I'll have JD bring over anything I need from my office."

"Hunh." Buck wasn't impressed. "Best you get to him before I do. I intend t'give that boy a talking-to that'll keep him standing for a week."

"Won't make him feel any more kindly toward Vin."

"No, I know…" Buck absently rubbed his neck. Inside the house, they heard the phone ring. "Y'know, anytime I'm not at work – if he needs –."

"A babysitter?" Chris asked, not unkindly.

"_A hand, an ear or a shoulder._ Vin's been run down by a monster truck and it could be awhile 'fore he feels safe crossing the street again. We both know he's shy of asking for help and so are you. One of you is gonna have to do it."

Chris took a moment to consider this.

"If I need help Buck, I will ask for it." He promised.

"Good. So I'll see you." Buck stepped closer to give Chris a real hug, that Larabee resisted only a little.

"Get outta here Buck, save your charm for the ladies." He laughed, and held Cowboy's collar until Buck's truck disappeared around the bend in the road.

*/*/*/*

Mary watched Vin watch Chris walk around the side of the house. His black eyes were fading but still obvious, and he kept one arm pressed to his ribs.

"Have you opened Maria's letter yet?" she asked, just to get his mind on something other than Chris not being right there.

"Nah, not yet." He turned his eyes down to his overstuffed pocket. "She's a sweet kid. She feels real bad that I got hurt helping her." He ran his fingers over the edge of the envelope, but didn't take it out. "She's a real good kid."

"I bet she's saying some pretty nice things about you as well."

"Yeah." A smile finally turned up on Vin's face.

The phone rang then and Mary turned to go inside and answer it. Vin followed her in. She went to the phone in the kitchen and Vin stopped in the family room to take Maria's envelope out and study it. After a few moments though, Mary called:

"Vin – phone. It's Josiah." And he tucked the envelope back into his pocket and went out to the phone. He knew he shouldn't feel the trepidation he felt, it was Josiah, it was a friend, it was his priest for crying out loud. Still, his 'hello?' came out a little uncertainly, and he held his breath until he heard Josiah answer.

"Vin – I'm sorry I didn't have a chance to call you earlier today. Just wanted to check how you're doing."

"I'm okay. I – I'm okay." Vin sifted through the extremes of his day, and picked out what he thought he could tell Josiah. "Slept a lot. Me and Chris played hooky from work and ate a lot of ice cream and watched TV. Just had dinner." He tried to think of what else to say.

"You're not thinking of going back to work yet are you?" Josiah asked. "You should take it easy for awhile."

"Well, Chris promised me desk duty…" Vin pulled a chair out from the table and took a seat. "Otherwise, well otherwise I don't know about staying by myself…"

"If you need something to keep yourself busy, you can always come by the rectory. Got so many things need repairing, I'm sure there's a lot you could do would be easy on your back. Can't pay you, but I will feed you…"

"I may just take you up on that. You know how much I like your stir fry. Your faucet still leaks?"

"Religiously."

"Don't quit your day job Josiah…" but there was a laugh in Vin's tone. "I'm gonna have to reseat it… I'll clear my schedule for you one of these days. Just working on your kitchen'd take me a month of Sundays…" wondering if Josiah would catch the pun. He did.

"Now who needs to keep their day job?" He asked. "You know I appreciate anything you do to bring the rectory into the modern age."

"I enjoy helping you Josiah." Vin said seriously. "The church and the rectory – you got a real peaceful place there. I like being there."

"I enjoy having you here Vin. Not even just to fix things either."

"Yeah, I know…" Vin's voice dropped to a whisper, and he swallowed hard. He had to break the seriousness. "You want me to become a priest – I know you're praying behind my back Josiah. Don't deny it." He heard the deep chuckle on the other end of the phone.

"Hey – the pay stinks but the long term benefits are Heavenly…"

"Joooosiaaaaah…" Vin strung out his name in a groan. "You're making my back hurt."

"At least I got you to laugh." Josiah said. "I have to go, got the Altar and Rosary Society meeting tonight. I just wanted to check on you. I'll call you again tomorrow, okay?"

"Thanks Josiah. I appreciate it." They said goodbye and Vin stood up to set the phone back in its cradle. The side door opened down the hallway and Cowboy trotted into the kitchen, followed more slowly by Chris.

"Josiah called, see how I was doing." Vin told him as he sat back down. "Some day we gotta go over and work on his kitchen faucet."

"Okay, maybe this Saturday?" Chris took another kitchen chair.

"I'm free…" Vin said, but could tell by the look on Chris' face that he had something serious to discuss.

"What are we doing about tomorrow?" Chris asked. "You think you'd be up to half a day at work?" Vin took a while to consider it.

"I get an 'eject' button with that?"

"Yes."

"What about the other half? I don't know if I can be by myself. Yet. For awhile." Trying to make himself not sound so childish. "I mean, I probably could. I haven't tried it yet. I just don't know -."

"You won't be alone." Chris told him. "And you don't have to go if you don't want to. And you don't have to stay longer than you want to."

As he spoke, Vin felt a familiar fear rising up in him. It must've showed on his face, Chris asked: "What?"

"You don't have to do this for me." It came out faster than Vin intended. "I've taken care of myself before, I can keep doing it. I don't - I don't -."

"Don't what?" Chris finally had to prod him.

"Don't want you to be sorry you were ever friends with me." Vin admitted it softly and reluctantly.

"I could say the same thing." Chris' response brought Vin's head up in surprise. "Even Buck can't always stand me." He went on. "Sometimes I wonder if I don't try to drive people away on purpose. There are times when you're the only friend I'm sure is still talking to me." He paused, but Vin didn't say anything. "I'm not being selfless here Vin, it is pure self interest making sure you're OK." He stood up and patted Vin's shoulder. "For one thing – you're the only person who can get my truck to start in sub-zero weather. C'mon, let's grab some lemonade and watch the sunset out on the deck…"

Vin had to consciously push himself to let out the breath he'd been holding, then he got up and followed Chris.

to be continued


	36. Chapter 36

_Blood flowed over the tile floor, filling the cracks and following the slight slant toward the corner where the tub attached to the wall. There was no room to escape. Arms and feet and fists kept him trapped in the little bathroom, driving him into the wall and pinning him to the floor. Harsh laughter and vulgar intentions echoed around him. Already face down on the slick gore, he felt himself falling… _

Vin came awake with a start, flinching to keep himself from falling in his dream. His ribs ached with every hard pound of his heart in his chest and his breath came in short sharp pants of fear. He pressed himself against the mattress until his eyes adjusted to the relative darkness of the bedroom, reaching out blindly to pull the double frame of his parents' pictures out from under the pillow and press gently against his thundering heart. The door was open, and a thin stream of light from the hallway cut across the end of the bunk bed. Once the roar of fear subsided in his ears, Vin couldn't hear any sound in the house. The room had no clock, so he couldn't be sure what time of night it was. He'd gone to bed early, just after sunset, after taking a shower. Now the house was dully quiet and no hint of sunrise showed outside the window.

Middle of the night.

He needed to take another shower.

*/*/*/*

_3:49AM_. Chris read the bright orange numbers on his bedside clock. Vin was taking a shower now? For a minute he wondered if he should get up when he heard the water shut off, and check on him. His first thought was to give Vin his privacy, not let him know he'd woke Chris up. Then he thought about where discretion had ever gotten him in the past, and he got out of bed, pulled on some jeans and a shirt, and went downstairs to make a fresh batch of lemonade.

*/*/*/*

Not wanting to put his pajamas back on, Vin got dressed again. He heard the floorboards complaining out in the hallway as he pulled on clean clothes, so he wasn't surprised to find Chris waiting for him when he opened the bathroom door.

"Couldn't sleep either?" Chris asked, so casually that Vin almost believed him.

"Yeah…"

"You okay?"

"Just a bad dream…" Vin pushed wet hair off his forehead then looked at the shower-induced wrinkles in his fingers. "Taking a shower every time I turn around - I'm turning into a damn cliché."

"No, you're just turning into a prune…" Chris told him. "Going back to bed? I'm sitting out on the deck...want some lemonade?" Vin didn't answer. "Think I slept too much today…" Chris went on. "Not tired at all. Wouldn't mind the company."

Vin thought about it. He thought about it hard. Chris was lying, he had to be. Chris was awake because Vin was, he was offering to sit out on the deck and drink lemonade in the middle of the night because he thought maybe Vin wouldn't be able to sleep. Vin wanted to sit with Chris, wanted to Chris to sit with him. Wanted to not risk going back into his dreams and nightmares where _they_ waited for him.

"No, think I'll just go back to bed..."

"You sure?"

They still had to get up in the morning and go to work, and Chris was still looking a little ragged to Vin.

"Yeah...I'm sure..." Without waiting for an answer, Vin went back into the bedroom. He shut the door over and sat on the bed, waiting to hear Chris go back into his own room.

Only he didn't.

Vin heard him go back downstairs. Probably going to put the lemonade away and turn off the lights.

Only he didn't.

The sound of the sliding glass doors being opened drifted up past the bedroom window, followed by the low grumble of Cowboy chasing shadows and Chris' soft '_shhh'_ called to the lab.

That was it, Chris was just letting Cowboy outside, then he'd head back in and go back to bed.

Only he didn't.

Five or ten or fifteen minutes passed, Vin sitting on the bed, listening to the sounds out his open window. Chris was talking softly to the dog, throwing a stick for him. Why was he sitting down there? What was he waiting for?

Maybe Chris really couldn't sleep. Maybe something was bothering was him. That problem at work, probably. James and Royal and the embezzled money. Having Environmental Services thrown into his corner, along with Security. That'd be enough burden to wear down any man, even Larabee, without adding a brittle friend who couldn't even spend a few hours by himself.

Vin shook his head and started to curl himself on top of the blankets when that one word unexpectedly reverberated in his head.

_Friend_.

How much of a friend was he being to Chris? Had he ever been to Chris?

Not much the past few days, that was for sure. With every other thought in his head reliving the attack, Vin hadn't had much room or attention left for anything or anyone other than himself.

_Selfish_.

Just like Aunt Diane always said.

Usually, Vin could push away her sarcastic remarks and nasty treatment. Usually, when he was in a good place, with good friends, he could see that she was wrong, if not outright lying. He had good friends, and he was a good friend in return.

But times like this - when he was sick or scared or frustrated or tired or overworked - Vin could stand back from what he was feeling and see that he was selfish. He could see that he was using his friends, taking from them anything and everything they would give him, and giving nothing back.

Vin sighed. Chris had enough to think about and worry about and deal with. Maybe he needed some looking after too.

*/*/*/*

Sitting out on the deck, Chris idly tossed a stick for Cowboy while he berated himself for not doing enough for Vin. He tried to think of something else, something more, just something he could do to help Vin.

Vin was having nightmares, that wasn't a surprise. But what to do about it? Short of sleeping in the same room, or being awake every moment that Vin was asleep, there was nothing to do but expect them beforehand, and deal with them after.

What else? Vin seemed to be eating okay. Maybe not as much as he normally did. Nobody could ever figure how such a still person could eat so much and stay so scrawny. It seemed like he'd lost some weight in the past few days, but maybe it just seemed that way because he was wearing Chris' shirt and it was too big for him.

Tomorrow would be the test, no doubt about it. The past two days, Vin had been safely tucked in with his friends, with people who knew and understood and only cared that he survived and recovered. Tomorrow - _later today_ - when they went to work, Vin would be out among people who knew, or didn't know, people who cared or cared too much, people who would understand - or who already condemned him for what they didn't understand.

Chris sighed, and threw the stick out into the darkness again for Cowboy. Nothing to be done about that, was there?

Except get his hands on whoever made Vin's life miserable and grind them into the dirt. He could do it. And he would.

*/*/*/*

Just as he was getting ready to head back up to bed, Chris was surprised to hear Vin moving around in the kitchen. He knew it was Vin because he could hear the dishwasher being opened and closed. Mary never took dishes out of the dishwasher except to put into the cupboard. This had to be Vin.

So, Vin was awake, and probably getting something to eat or drink Which was good. Then Vin appeared on the deck, carrying two bowls. He sat down and handed one to Chris - bananas and milk.

*/*/*/*

Mary woke up alone. She took her shower and got dressed, and went downstairs to find two Chris and Vin asleep in the Adirondack chairs on the deck. Vin had a couple of pillows supporting his body, and a wool blanket almost completely covering him. Chris slept with no pillow, but was almost completely covered by Cowboy, the black lab stretched to his full length across Chris' lap and chest, snoring softly.

"Make a cute couple, don't they?" Vin asked, as he pulled the blanket away from his face. He surprised Mary, she thought he was asleep.

"What are the two of you doing out here?"

"Ohhh –." Vin looked over at Chris. "Somebody couldn't sleep, so somebody else thought he might sit out with him awhile…"

"Well, that was very sweet of you." Mary immediately sized up the situation. "I'm going to start breakfast, whenever you want to come in."

"Okay, I'll see if I can rouse the twins…"

When she was gone back inside, Vin pushed the blanket down and stretched as much as he dared. The pleasant summer morning wafted around him, and the nice feeling of being warm, safe, and comfortable lasted just as long as it took the first twinge of pain to reverberate through his body. That's all it took to summon the horror back to him, front and center. He was one day farther away from the attack, and one morning closer to facing life outside the safety of Chris' house.

Suddenly, the day wasn't so pleasant anymore, and even the wind seemed to claw and drag as it drove past him. Vin pushed himself out of the Adirondack chair. He had to act as though the weight of it all wasn't suffocating him. Bundling the pillows and blankets into his arms, he patted the dog's head.

"Hey, Cowboy, time to get up."

Cowboy began to wag his tail even before his bleary eyes opened. He stretched himself out, pushing one paw toward Vin, but making no move to get up. Chris' only response was to reposition the dog's elbow out of his ribs. He didn't even open his eyes.

"_Chris_?" A little louder.

"Hmm?"

"Can I borrow your truck? I promised Billy I'd teach him how to drive." Vin didn't feel the casualness and humor that he forced out; he knew he had to make everybody else think he was doing okay.

"Keys 'r in the kitchen." Chris mumbled into Cowboy's fur.

"And can I use it to haul a load of manure to fertilize my garden?"

"…yeah…"

"Can I jet Mary off to an exotic island for a few weeks without you?"

"Sure…" Chris answered with a voice just as mumbled and tired, and still sounding mostly asleep. "Y'oughta be able to hitch a ride on one of those pigs that'll have started flying just then." Chris finally opened his eyes. "Daylight already, hunh?"

"Happens every day about this time." Vin agreed. "Mary's getting breakfast. I'm headin' in."

"Okay, I'll be there…" Chris made a halfhearted attempt to sit up, but Cowboy had fallen back asleep. "Soon's I can roust 'The Terror' here."

"I'll come back for you, if you're not there by lunchtime." Vin promised, and then walked into the house.

"You're all heart, you know that, Tanner." Chris called after him, pushing at the deadweight of dog pinning him down.

Vin carried the pillows and blankets up to the guest room. His room. The times he'd stayed here in the past, or when he was over for dinner, or just stopped by for some reason, any reference to the guest room was always made to 'his' room. He always appreciated that. But maybe now he was taking it for granted.

He wished he could figure it out.

Realistically, he knew – as he sat himself down on the edge of the lower bunk in 'his' room – he knew that Chris was his friend. Vin could easily pull from his memory every little comment and action and sign of affection that Chris had ever offered him that left Vin no doubt of their friendship.

Vin had helped Chris move his frugal possessions into his office that first day three years ago, but he never intended to pursue anything more than a business relationship with Larabee. The next day they'd passed each other on the Green, and Vin offered a generic greeting. But Chris turned to walk with him. Mostly he asked Vin questions about the University and surrounding area, but his final question was to ask if Vin'd had lunch and would he join Chris?

The offer – and the enthusiasm behind it – surprised Vin. What surprised him more though was that he accepted the invitation, and actually had a good time. Aside from some initial awkwardness at having lunch with a relative stranger, Vin never felt anything but at ease around Chris.

So, why was he feeling so self-conscious now?

Because nothing was the way it had been Friday noon, when they had lunch together and parted ways on the Green. Chris had gone back to his office, and Vin's life had been exploded.

And he would never get all the pieces back together again.

He set the blanket and pillows on the bed and gathered up the waiting clean clothes for another shower. But when he got to the bathroom, he wondered why he even bothered. He knew he'd feel just as dirty when he got out of the shower as when he went in. Why waste the time and the hot water? He was dirty, he'd always be dirty, so he might as well just _be_ dirty.

So he threw the clothes back onto the bunk bed and went downstairs.

*/*/*/*

to be continued


	37. Chapter 37

At first, Chris took it as an encouraging sign that Vin hadn't taken another shower, and then he got a look into his eyes. Definitely not good. What was it – despair? – misery? – hopelessness? Whatever it was, Chris didn't like it.

"How're you doing?" he asked, as they sat down for breakfast. Vin shrugged and didn't seem inclined to answer, then it was as though a light went on.

"I'm okay. Tired. My back hurts. You know." He shrugged again, and smiled at Mary when she passed him the basket of bread.

"Sleeping in those deck chairs." Chris agreed. He accepted the bread from Vin, and handed him the bowl of scrambled eggs. "I guess we're lucky it didn't rain again." But a few minutes later, Chris flashed a glance at Vin again, and the light had gone off, and the despair had returned.

Vin picked at the food on his plate for awhile, and managed to eat barely a third of it. Finally he gave up and set his fork down.

"I'm sorry Mary. Don't mean to waste your food – just not real hungry."

Chris looked across the table to his wife. She had a sad expression on her face, looking at Vin who wasn't looking at her, and he worried that she was about to offer Vin a sympathetic answer. He didn't think that would do Vin any good.

"Well, you know she's more used to feeding Buck." Chris spoke before Mary could. "It's an automatic reaction to cook so much food." Mary shot him a slightly disapproving look, but Vin lifted his head.

"Not too shabby yourself there, y'know." His voice was as lifeless as his smile.

"Just more of you to love honey." Mary told Chris. But the lift in her tone didn't match the sad look that didn't leave her eyes. "At least I just keep telling myself that…"

Chris was going to give her a – forced – lighthearted response, but Vin pushed his chair back and stood up.

"I'm just gonna go brush my teeth and…and…whatever… before we head out." He started to pick up his plate, but Mary insisted he leave it for her, and he nodded, and trudged out of the room to the staircase.

When she could be reasonably sure Vin was out of earshot, Mary said:

"He looks worse today. Do you think he should go to work?"

"_I_ have to go to work, and I don't want to leave him here by himself." Chris avoided saying that _Vin_ didn't want to stay by himself either.

"Well…my mother is coming over with Billy later. Vin likes my mother."

"I can't leave him with a babysitter Mary. How would that make him feel?"

"You'll be 'babysitting' him at work, won't you?"

"That's different – he'll be working, he's gotta help me get through the mess with James. He'll be busy, he'll have something to do other than just stare at the walls and think about what happened to him…"

*/*/*/*

_Take the toothbrush out of the holder in the wall._

_Take the toothpaste out of the cabinet on the wall._

_Turn on the water._

_Open the toothpaste._

Vin's hands shook as his brain patiently transmitted to them each step in the process of brushing his teeth.

_Put the toothbrush under the water._

_Put toothpaste on the toothbrush._

_Put the cap back on the toothpaste._

Hell, his whole body was shaking. The thought of going out into the world, of leaving this house, of leaving his room, scared him sick. There'd be questions and stares and people he wouldn't be able to avoid.

_Put the toothpaste back in the cabinet on the wall._

_Brush teeth._

He might even see _them_ out there.

He gagged on the thought, and on the action of brushing his teeth. He spit and retched toothpaste foam and bile into the sink. His bruised muscles and cracked ribs cramped and spasmed in rebellion, and the pain tore up his backbone. Even his eyes hurt.

The whole episode was blessedly brief, and when it ended, he staggered backward a little, to sit unsteadily on the edge of the tub. He wrapped his arms around his aching ribs, with his toothbrush still death gripped in his hand, and rocked slightly against the pain.

He couldn't go out, he knew he couldn't go out there into the world again. He didn't want to leave the house, didn't want to leave his room, didn't want to leave the bathroom if he didn't absolutely have to.

But then his mind followed that thought through – if he didn't leave the house, he'd be all alone when Chris and Mary went to work. Or Chris would stay home too – out of concern, out of friendship.

Maybe out of pity.

Vin pushed the pain aside and stood up again. He rinsed the toothbrush and set it back in the holder, rinsed his mouth with a handful of cold water, washed his face – and went back downstairs to face the day.

*/*/*/*

"You okay over there?" Chris asked, when they were about halfway to St. Michael's.

"Yeah."

"You don't look too good."

"Well don't go getting all high on yourself just 'cause Mary chose you over every other guy wanted to marry her…"

"You know what I mean." Chris insisted. Vin wanted to snap back _'no I don't' _but he only shrugged.

"I'm okay."

"You let me know how long you want to stay."

"_I'm okay._"

*/*/*/*

By the time they got to St. Michael's University, Vin wished he could throw up; maybe it would ease the solid mass of fear twisting inside of him. Chris pulled his truck into the parking space marked with the sign '_Parking for Chris Larabee only. All others will be remembered fondly_.' Vin welcomed the smell of fresh air and cut grass that blew in as he opened the passenger door. He welcomed more the relatively few people walking nearby. He wondered how fast he could make it into the building, and how close he could stick to Chris while he did it.

"I am not looking forward to this day." Chris said, as he stepped down out of the truck, and came around to Vin.

"I'm looking forward to this day being over."

"Vin…" Chris put his hand up to stop him. "I mean it – you tell me the instant you don't want to stay here."

"That's easy." Vin answered evenly. "It'll be the instant I see JD."

"Don't worry – I see him first, you won't recognize him."

to be continued


	38. Chapter 38

Vin kept his head down as he followed Chris into Chase Hall and down the long corridor to the Security Department. His distress felt like a fist wedged into his throat. He wished he had something in his hand, so it could seem like he was reading it and not deliberately avoiding lifting his head. Thankfully the hallway was clear, and they didn't meet anybody. It was a relief to reach Chris' office, and the safety of a closed door.

He hesitated a minute, wanting but not wanting to simply throw himself into the nearest chair and try to calm his shaking nerves. In that minute, he saw that Chris' office had been slightly rearranged – the corner that used to hold a small table and a couple of chairs now narrowly held a small desk with a computer on top of it.

"I talked with Gloria yesterday." Chris explained when he saw the confusion. "Asked her to have Computing get you set up in here. Figured it'd be easier that way, both of us can work on the problems and not play phone tag."

"Yeah…" Vin doubted that he could get his mind to focus enough to even _think_ about the problems, much less formulate any solutions. He maneuvered carefully behind the desk and set himself into the chair. He made no move to turn the computer on; he ran his hands over the fake wood top of the metal desk.

"If there's something you need from your other desk, I can get it for you." Chris offered. He came to stand in front of Vin. "Or have somebody bring it over…"

Vin blinked a couple of times. His mouth felt dry.

"Got a picture of my folks over there." The first thing that came to his mind. "My coffee cup I suppose, I don't know…"

"Okay…should I have somebody bring those over, or would you like me to get them for you?" Chris asked and Vin felt humbled by - and undeserving of - the concerned, understanding tone in his voice.

"Would _you_ – whenever, y'know – if you'd get 'em. At least the picture. I'd rather you got that." If possible, Vin's mouth became even drier. "If you would – y'don't have to. Whenever. Y'know..." He finally just closed his mouth to stop his babbling.

Chris either didn't notice – and Vin was _sure_ he noticed – his distress, or just chose not to mention it.

"OK, I'll head over now. If I see anything else that looks likely, I'll bring that back too." He headed for the door. "I get the feeling this whole mess is gonna take a while to plow through, so you're stuck with me for the duration…want anything else while I'm out?"

Vin licked his dry lips and tried to swallow.

"Something to drink, maybe? Pepsi or water or something?"

"Sure, I'll be right back." Chris left the office, and shut the door behind himself.

Vin stared at the door a little while, willing his panic back down to where he could manage it, down to the fist still in his throat. When he could breathe again, when his hands stopped shaking enough that he could manage the buttons on the keyboard, he fired up the computer and started going through his email.

*/*/*/*

Vin's usual 'desk' was just a space on a long countertop in the corner of the workshop attached to Groundskeeping's garage. His computer had a sheet of clear plastic over it, and it – and everything else – had a thick layer of dust, sawdust, and plaster dust on it. The photograph of his parents was under the plastic with the computer, but his coffee cup wasn't. Chris wouldn't touch that cup, much less drink out of it. He found a paper bag tucked under the table saw and shook the powdered grime off before setting the picture into it, and some other supplies that looked like Vin might need in the meantime. He didn't take the cup.

"Chris – I thought I saw you come in here."

He turned to see Gloria Potter making her way across the cluttered floor. In a good suit and high heels, she was completely out of place in the mess. Chris hurried to meet her, afraid she'd twist an ankle or do some worse harm to herself if she covered too much ground.

"Gloria – this isn't a fit place for a lady…"

But Gloria had other things on her mind.

"Chris - is Vin all right?" Her question surprised Chris - and worried him.

"Why would you ask that?" he asked when he was finally at her side.

"Well, when you called yesterday and said he wasn't feeling well, I didn't think much of it - except to hope he'd feel better soon. But when I mentioned it to JD later, he seemed so upset..."

"Upset how?" Chris hoped he didn't sound too anxious for the information.

"Oh - I just asked him if he knew how Vin was. He got a funny look on his face and said I should ask you. Is he all right?"

Chris knew that Vin kept an eye out for Gloria - against James sure, but against blown fuses and tired appliances too; he knew that she wasn't asking now about Vin for her own sake, but because she was genuinely worried.

"He's fine Gloria..." Chris politely indicated they should leave the workshop. "He's here today. He just got -." Great, just got _what_ Larabee? Whatever Vin had told him at first. " - hurt. Fell in his bathroom. Cracked his head, cracked some ribs. He's stiff and sore..." Chris tucked the bag under his arm, held open the door, and took Gloria's arm to help her over the threshold. "...pretty sore at himself..." He smiled at her, hoping she'd believe his levity. "Couple painkillers and a few days, he'll be fine."

*/*/*/*

Vin had gone through most of his work-related emails. Most of them were the useless "all staff" announcements that really only mattered to one or two departments, and he deleted those. A few were requests from staff who learned long before that it didn't help to ask Lucas James for help. One email Ezra had sent him, Friday afternoon, reminding Vin that he if wanted to take advantage of the one tuition free class he was entitled to every semester, he had to send the paperwork in before the end of the month.

Friday afternoon he'd sent it. Vin checked the time.

Seemed to be just about the time - he didn't want to think about it, but his mind worried the notion like a dog with a bone. Ezra was sending him an email just as...just as... He couldn't summon the words, and he couldn't banish the images.

Just as he thought he'd be sick, Vin heard the doorknob turn. Thank God, Larabee was back. The door opened - and two anxious voices said at the same time: "_Chris_?" and two startled young men stared at each other.

"Vin - I didn't ..." JD stammered around the door. "I thought - I mean -." He finally blurted, "Is Chris here?"

But Vin didn't answer right away. He stared some long moments, wanting to damn JD for whatever he was thinking.

"Chris is out looking for you JD, and I recommend you avoid him." Vin kept his tone flat. JD made a derisive noise.

"_Thanks for the warning._ Tell him I need to see him. Tell him I'll be..." JD's glance took in the new office arrangement. "...someplace else..." and he slammed the door as he left. Vin's body began to shudder, and his skin went cold and clammy. Chris had a bathroom attached to his office, and it was still too far away. Vin only made it through the bathroom door when he lost even the little he'd had for breakfast that morning.

***/*/*/***

JD didn't really mean to slam the door; still, it felt good for a minute. But by the time he got to the end of the hallway furthest away from Chris' office, he felt cold and sweaty, and suddenly sick to his stomach.

What the hell was Vin doing at work? He hadn't expected to see Vin sitting there in Chris' office, and he sure hadn't been expecting that he'd look so – _normal_. Well, the bruises under Vin's eyes weren't normal, and he seemed a little pale. Still, he didn't look like a man who'd been – who'd let – who'd… If that'd ever happened to him, JD knew, he'd never be able to go out in public again.

But it never was gonna happen to him because – because – well, just because it wasn't, that's all.

He grabbed a long swallow of water from the fountain in the hallway, which relieved his tight throat, but did nothing for the uneasiness twisting in his stomach. Judging from the new furniture, seemed like Vin was a permanent fixture in Chris' office, and JD had no wish to keep running into him. That just wouldn't be – he didn't suppose Vin would want to be – dammit, he just didn't want to do it.

Going outside into the fresh air didn't help any either, and he wondered why his hands were shaking. Too much caffeine, that was it. Too long since breakfast maybe. He'd go to the Student Union and get a bagel or something, that'd help.

So what if Vin looked the way he always looked? So what if the way he always looked was like a man who'd never let himself be – but now he had been – and that must've been because he let them –

Didn't matter, because it would never happen to JD because he would – he'd never – dammit, it just never would happen, that's all.

JD crossed The Green from Chase Hall, heading for the Union. Vin's statement came back to him though when he saw Chris just going into that building - _Chris is looking for you._ A dozen different errands he had to attend to on the other side of the campus suddenly occurred to JD, and he quickly turned his steps that way.

*/*/*/*

Chris got Pepsi and water, and went back to his office. The first thing he saw when he stepped into his office was Vin, sitting on the floor next to the half-closed bathroom door. He had his arms around his drawn up legs, with his forehead resting on his knees.

"What's going on?" Chris asked. He tried not to sound worried.

"I'll clean it up," was all Vin answered. Chris looked around the cramped quarters.

"Clean up what?"

Vin lifted his head and motioned toward the bathroom. "I threw up…I didn't make it…"

Chris stepped cautiously past him, and took a look around the bathroom door.

"I'll take care of it, don't worry…here, I got some things from your desk, and I got some water…" he set the bag on Vin's desk. "Want some help getting up?" Vin shook his head and muttered a soft,

"Naah…"

Still, Chris waited a few moments before he left the office again. He went down the hall to the Housekeeping storage closet, and brought back a broom and dustpan, and one of those packages of neon pink sawdust made for just such an emergency. Vin hadn't moved off the floor, and Chris thought he'd take care of one problem at a time. He went into the bathroom and spread the sawdust onto the very small mess.

He was surprised to hear Vin bark, "_Don't do that - stop cleaning up after me."_ Chris looked around the door to see him still on floor, looking a little pale and a lot pissed. "I can do it." Vin insisted. "Just give me a minute."

Chris ducked behind the door again, made some noise with the broom and metal dustpan under the pretense of setting them aside. But really, he was trying to hide his breath of frustration. Why wouldn't Vin just take help when it was offered? It'd make things a whole lot easier. But – Chris let out another long breath. Sometimes life just wasn't easy.

He'd intended to go back out and lift Vin to his feet and set him back in his chair and tell him to drink some water and just relax. Instead, he left the bathroom and shut the door, and sat himself on the floor just opposite Vin, with his back against his own desk. Vin eyed him a little suspiciously.

"You all right?" Chris asked, vaguely indicating the bathroom.

"Yeah…" All the air seemed to leave Vin's body.

"You want me to take you home? Back to my house?" Vin didn't answer. "You don't have to stay here if you're not up to it Vin."

"JD was here looking for you," was what Vin said. Chris felt the tension of wanting to pound JD crawl up his spine.

"What'd he do?" he demanded.

"Nothing," Vin said, and repeated it when it seemed Chris didn't believe him. "_Nothing_. A person doesn't have to _do_ anything to make y'feel like shit."

"Do you want me to take you home?" Chris asked again. He offered it gently, not wanting Vin to feel he was pushing him to decide either way. Work could go to hell – JD could go to hell – Chris just wanted…

Honestly, he didn't know what he wanted. Not so that he could put it into words. Vin sat three feet away from him, arms still around his knees, pale and sweating, and looking like he wished he could melt into the floor. Neither man was demonstrative, though Chris had been trying to overcome that since even before he knew Vin. But – no matter the extra hugs he'd taught himself to give to Billy, or how it was just natural now to reach silently across the couch for Mary's hand when they were watching TV or reading the paper – nothing could've ever prepared him for this.

When Vin was broken down and crying in the front hall in the middle of the night, it was an automatic reaction to hold onto him until he was calm. But that was in the dark, with nobody around. Almost nobody, he thought of Billy peeking down the stairs. Chris didn't know how Vin would feel about being touched, and he didn't know how he'd feel about touching. This was work, broad daylight.

Vin shook his head, answering Chris question. "Stay…I'll stay here." But he sounded unhappy. How do you console a man at work, in broad daylight?

"Well then…" Chris got to his feet and offered his hand down to Vin. "I was wondering if you had an idea what the most important thing we need to worry about for Groundskeeping before the fall semester starts."

Vin hesitated a bit before he accepted the help, and let Chris help him stand.

"I don't know if Groundskeeping is our biggest concern." He said. "Some of the emails I was looking at before, Maintenance is what seems to be going to hell…" He sounded stronger, focused on a problem other than his own. "Stair railings loose, doors don't lock." Once on his feet, he headed for the chair at his desk again. "Elevator in Cleveland Hall is doing The Shimmy again…ohh, what else? I started a list…"

"How come…" Chris opened the paper bag and took out a liter bottle of cold Pepsi, then he handed the bag to Vin. "…you come back from a sick day, and all you have are work related emails. I come back to a hundred advertisements for Viagara." He wondered too late if maybe he shouldn't have said that to Vin. But Vin only gave him a dead serious look.

"Might be Mary's giving out your email address?" he offered, helpfully. His expression didn't change even as Chris glared at him.

"I thought you were my friend." He tried to sound hurt.

"Imagine if I wasn't," Vin shot back. Chris let out a wounded sigh, but was inwardly glad that Vin was sparring with him. He took his Pepsi and he took his seat at his desk again.

"I get no respect," he mumbled.

"Y'might if you tried some of that Viagara…"

to be continued


	39. Chapter 39

_Alt-Tab_ _Alt-Tab_

Vin finally noticed that he was flipping between his email and his Excel database, only he couldn't remember why.

_Alt-Tab_

Back to his email. Mrs. D'Ambrosio from the library was wondering, she understood this might be a busy time, but it'd been three months now since she asked, of course it wasn't a terrible emergency...Vin scrolled through the message again. Still waiting for track lighting to be installed over the new exhibit in the Rare Book Room.

Back to the database, Vin typed in _who, what, where_.

He saw himself reflected in his computer screen, and the image of his bathroom mirror intruded into his vision. Three faces other than his own, the reflection blurred by sweat and fear, his face bloody, pale, frightened, and theirs leering, crude, and violent. Panic jumped out of nowhere and landed square on his shoulders, giving his heart a jolt and setting every nerve on alert.

He shoved his chair back from the desk, not getting more than a couple of feet before he hit the wall behind. He stared at the screen, and the disinterested database stared back. _They_ were here. _They_ were somewhere. _They_ would always be wherever Vin was, because he'd never be rid of them - the way they smelled, the way they sounded, they way they touched him and made him -

"All done Mr. Larabee..." The voice gave Vin another start, and he looked up to see that Chris had been looking at him. Even now, Chris held his gaze a moment before turning to the housekeeper coming out of the bathroom.

"Thanks Mrs. Webber..." Chris got up to hold doors for the impossibly short, wide, old woman, and her wheeled work cart. "I appreciate you taking care of that. I meant to do it myself."

"_Ahh_..." She shook her head as she backed her equipment out of the office. "Better some things are left to professionals...I check your office twice a day. Twice a day!" She shook a forefinger at him. "I don't even clean Judge Travis' office twice a day!"

"Thank you Mrs. Webber..." Chris said, and smiled as he watched her toddle down the hallway, pushing her cart. When he shut the door, he turned back to Vin, and the smile left his face.

"Something on the computer?"

"No...just remembering..." Vin reached for his bottle of water and took a long swallow. "It's there all the time, sometimes it still gets the drop on me..." He saw Chris' eyes narrow in confusion. "Every other thing I think about Chris is _them_. It's like trying to listen to two conversations at the same time. No matter what's goin' on..." He swept a wide gesture at the desk in front of himself. "It just keeps playing over and over in my mind. What I could've done, what I should've done." He capped the water bottle with a shaky hand. "It's just always there."

"Vin -." Chris started, but Vin didn't want to hear anything. He pulled his chair back up to the desk and interrupted whatever Chris was going to say.

"I was thinking about sending out a general email to faculty and staff...you know, James is finally gone, we'll get to you as soon as we can, hold your horses..." He didn't look up.

"Sounds good." Chris said, and Vin still didn't look up. He wished Chris would just take the hint and go sit back down. He tried to concentrate on the screen, tried to get his fingers to _Alt-Tab_ him back to his email.

"I'll have 'em send all Housekeeping things to Gloria too..."

"Okay..." and finally Chris went back to his chair.

*/*/*/*

For the third time, Ezra attempted to concentrate on the agenda before him. The University Board of Directors would be meeting again this afternoon to discuss "_that matter_" - meaning Lucas James. All of the board members wanted James gone - but none were ready to have their name in ink on that decision. He rubbed his eyes and flipped back to the first page.

Perhaps he should review his emails again, and see if Mr. Larabee had even responded to the summons requesting his presence at today's meeting. Yesterday's meeting had raised more questions than answers, today they hoped - with Mr. Larabee's help - to reverse that trend. All would be lost if he'd taken another sick day.

Ezra muttered to himself as he weeded out his latest harvest of useless information, proffered by sundry personages throughout the campus. _delete~delete~delete_ he disposed of them one by one. He'd made it about halfway down when he finally encountered one that actually mattered to him. The return addy was the Maintenance Department.

_While we figure out a way to dump James, you can send me all maintenance requests..._ Ezra had to smile at Mr. Larabee's bluntness. Without finishing reading the message, he hit reply.

_Whenever you have a moment, I would greatly appreciate having someone finally make an appearance in my office to repair the gouge in the plaster which has been staring at me for quite some nine months...We WILL see you at the meeting today, will we not?_ He hit send, deleted the original message, and kept going through his email.

*/*/*/*

"Oh great..." Chris spat when he saw the email invitation. "How the hell do they expect me to get any work done if they keep scheduling meetings every twelve hours?"

"You talking to me?" Vin looked around his computer screen.

"Damn Board is having another meeting today. They had one yesterday. Hell they'll keep having 'em until they figure a way to fire James and make it look like his idea." Chris hit the _'accept this invitation'_ icon. "Dammit, we are going to end this, and we are going to end this today." He began typing angrily on his keyboard.

"Who you yellin' at now?"

"Travis. You should see this agenda. They're gonna spend three hours exploring every possible way this could jump up and bite 'em in the ass and then STILL not fire him. I've seen more spine in jelly fish..."

While Chris cyber-vented, Vin went back to his own computer. His 'new mail' button was flashing - it'd been flashing steadily since he sent out his global message about maintenance. "Now who's got a problem?" he muttered.

Ezra.

Vin stared at the name. Ezra _knew_. Ezra thought he wanted it to happen. Ezra had sent him a reply. Vin swallowed hard and clicked on the message. As he read it - just a request for some maintenance work - Vin got the idea Ezra didn't know who he was communicating with. The message ended with reference to a meeting - Ezra thought he was dealing with Chris.

At first Vin thought maybe he'd forward the message to Chris, to have him answer it. Or maybe not answer it at all, just send somebody to do the work. But he didn't want Ezra to go on sending emails, not if he didn't know who was reading them. So, he typed a short answer and hit send.

Within half a minute, the automatic 'your message has been read' popped up in his email. Ezra was reading his reply. Vin wondered if his computer was about to start on fire.

*/*/*/*

Why wasn't the agenda making sense? It was neither the grammar nor the punctuation. Nor was it the mind numbing inanity of topics put forth. It was because - Ezra knew too well - it would all be moot if the Head of Security graced the proceedings with his presence. Under the best circumstances, Mr. Larabee had the patience of a rogue bear. This nonsensical attempt at shifting blame and saving face would be like setting a match to a fuse.

Just then, Chris' email acceptance came through. "Oh joy." Ezra breathed and made a note of it. When he deleted that message, the next one appeared. This one sent a shiver of dismay through Ezra.

_Hey Ezra. I'll make sure somebody takes care of that gouge today. Sorry you been having to wait all this time. Vin._

He quickly hit reply and sent an answer, then even more quickly deleted the message and emptied his email trash. Good Lord - what was Vin doing at work? Was he on the campus even now? Chris wouldn't think of bringing him to the meeting would he? Ezra wouldn't - couldn't - didn't know if he'd be able to remain in the same room with - with -

Desperately, and too late, Ezra searched for Chris' acceptance again. Had he made any mention in there of bringing Vin? But he'd deleted it and it was gone. _Good Lord_.

*/*/*/*

Vin didn't know if he'd been expecting a response from Ezra. The original hadn't really been addressed to him, and it was impossible to rightly gauge a person's tone in email. Buck liked to use exclamation points a lot, JD used the smiley faces that came with his Yahoo account, Josiah changed the inspirational tag line to his signature every week...Ezra used big words all the time. Unless he was upset or pissed. You could always tell - the madder Ezra was, the fewer words he used.

So Vin opened up this reply from Ezra. All it said was _thank you_.

to be continued


	40. Chapter 40

"Did you bring over my coffee cup?" Vin suddenly realized it was missing. Chris had brought back his ancient soup can of pens and pencils, his pocket calendar and bottle of Corn Huskers lotion, and the picture of his parents on their wedding day. But no coffee cup.

"You mean it wasn't glued to the work table on purpose?" Chris asked. "It was so full of wood shavings and plaster that it was too heavy to lift…"

"Ohh… Vin rubbed his eyes. "We've been having to do a lot of Maintenance work…been cutting lumber and sheetrock…"

"What's going on with Maintenance?"

"I don't know…" Vin held his fingers there, on his eyes, for a minute. It wasn't really that he didn't know – he just didn't have the energy to explain it all.

"You okay?"

"Yeah…" Vin nodded and dropped his hand, reaching for the bottle of water to take another mouthful. "Tired, that's all…"

"Well, it's gettin' near lunchtime…" Chris looked at his watch. "You want to order in something?"

"I'm not really hungry." Vin started to say, but he was contradicted by the obvious complaint of the water in his otherwise empty stomach. Chris sat back in his chair.

"Seems we've had this conversation before?"

"Yeah, I know…" Vin ran his hand over his face. "How big a mess you want Mrs. Webber t'hafta clean up this afternoon?"

"I get the distinct impression that Mrs. Webber admires a challenge."

"Ha – yeah I think so too…" Vin smiled, but dropped his eyes, and Chris could see the wheels turning. "We could order something, and you could ask JD if he'd pick it up for us." He started to laugh.

"You are tired."

"Or – I know – Ezra – let's invite Ezra over for lunch…" Chris had started to laugh too, just for a second, until he realized there was no humor in Vin's remarks, only bitterness.

"Vin –." There was a warning and a question in his tone.

"Oh c'mon Chris! It _is_ funny. I'm the one whose life is over and they act like I owe _them_ an apology!" He stopped laughing abruptly, and pressed a hand against his ribs. His voice was flat. "Damn funniest thing I ever heard of."

"You shouldn't listen to a word they say Vin."

"They haven't _said_ anything Chris. It's what they _haven't_ said." He sounded truly hurt. "And the way they don't say it. JD's snapping at me like I broke him a promise, I haven't heard a word from Nettie since Sunday, Ezra's been rendered monosyllabic –."

"When did you talk to Ezra?" Chris asked sharply.

"Ohh – email." Vin searched his brain to remember. "Asked if somebody could take care a'that chunk in his wall. He thought he was emailing you – I said somebody'd be over and he just emailed back _'thanks'_." Vin picked up his bottle of water again but didn't open it. He shrugged. "Maybe I'm making too much of it. What happened to me. Rain seems to think it was no big deal what happened. You and Buck –."

"We do _not_ think it's no big deal."

"Oh no – I didn't mean that," Vin hurried to say. "I wasn't saying that. I meant – well, I meant…" He ran his finger over his parents' picture. He couldn't seem to decide what he _had_ meant. "I just didn't mean that," he sighed. "Maybe lunch would be okay."

"Okay, I've got some menus here somewhere…" Chris didn't want to leave the conversation just there, but decided to give himself some time to work on a reply. He went to his file cabinet and pulled open a drawer. "There's pizza and Chinese, I think I've got a gift certificate to that new Italian restaurant on Bidwell…"

While Chris searched, Vin rested his forehead in his hands, shielding his eyes with his fingers. Everything was just churning around inside of him again. If he let himself think about it, he'd be tossing up all the water he drank too. He was asking too much of Chris, expecting too much, needing too much. Not giving anything back.

"I was only gonna say…" he continued, from behind the relative safety of his hands. "You and Buck…" and the thought of every single kindness each man had willingly given him suddenly crowded out every other feeling, and he choked on the words and the emotions.

"_You just don't know_..." His voice faded out on the last word and he didn't lift his head. He swallowed back everything he wanted to say but didn't know how to say. It would come out stilted and stupid and it probably wouldn't mean anything to Chris anyway. It was just how Chris was and what he did, and the measly, jumbled, incoherent '_thanks'_ that Vin couldn't get past his throat would hardly count as much as a flyspeck.

Chris turned from his hunt through the file drawer to look at Vin. He was hiding again, behind his hands. It seemed he'd stopped speaking and was trying to even stop breathing. It hit Chris in the pit of his stomach – was Vin trying to say he and Buck were _too_ unconcerned about what happened? Because that was the furthest thing from the truth. He'd been controlling his anger and vengeance, especially around Vin, not wanting to add to what Vin was already feeling. Was he supposed to tell Vin exactly how much rage and anguish he was holding inside? How long and how utterly those bastards would be dead once Chris got his hands on them?

Damn it – did Vin think Chris really didn't care?

He shut the file drawer quietly and took a seat on the edge of his desk closest to Vin. He waited a couple of beats, but Vin didn't lift his head. What was he supposed to say? What _could_ he say?

What did he _want_ to say?

"Vin?" but though the fingers tremored, they didn't move. "Buck and I – well, _I_ - whenever something bad happens…" Chris found himself wondering when he'd become so inarticulate; frustrated with his habitual inability to express what he was feeling. Vin was swimming in misery, and all Chris could worry about was embarrassing himself by saying or doing something 'sensitive' right here in the broad daylight.

"I know it's hard on you Vin, and I would make it stop if I could. I'd run JD and Ezra down with a bulldozer if I thought it'd change their minds. If I get my hands on the dirt who did this to you, I'm gonna wrap their guts around a tree. I don't know why Nettie hasn't called you, and I sure don't understand Rain thinking this is nothing out of the ordinary – all I know is that it's hard on you, and it's hard on me not being able to do a damn thing about it."

"You don't have to do anything," the shaky voice came from behind the hands. "You already did more than I can ever even say 'thank you' for. You keep on 'doing', and I'll never be able to pay you back."

Chris folded his arms and frowned at the man who was not looking at him. "Refresh my memory – when was it I told you that you had to pay me back for being your friend?"

"_You didn't_," Vin admitted. He lifted his head with an exasperated sigh.

"You know, this isn't some bargain we struck up, or some list I keep track of, favors and paybacks." Chris didn't mean to sound so stern. He took a breath and tried again. "I can imagine that it feels like everything has been blown to hell around you Vin. But if you think about it, think about how this friendship thing usually works between us – well, I hope you'll stop counting favors 'cause I think I'd end up owing you a whole lot more than you'd owe me."

"How d'you figure that?"

"What happened Valentine's Day this year?"

"Valentine's Day?" Vin repeated it a couple of times as he searched his memory; apparently nothing was generating.

"Some fool drove through a blinding snowstorm to buy the flowers and pastry hearts he knew I'd forgotten and shoved them into my hands seconds before I walked into the lion's den?" Chris supplied.

"Oh – well…Mary's always been real nice to me. Didn't want to see her sent up for murder." But his voice was still so flat, it worried Chris.

"_Are you okay_? You want to go home? Go off campus for lunch? You don't have to force yourself to feel back to normal if you're not, Vin. Especially not around me."

"It comes and goes – it's not bad all the time. You don't have to -."

"Don't have to what?" Chris interrupted. "Don't have to worry? I guess I don't have to breathe either, do I?"

Vin stared hard at his desktop, and brushed away some dust that wasn't there. He didn't say anything.

"I'm sorry Vin…" Chris tried again. "I don't mean to be yelling at you when it's other people I want to mutilate. It's just –." He leaned forward with his hands on his knees. "I _care_, okay? I care that you were hurt, I care that you're hurting now. I want to do something, and I don't know what. Didn't seem to be a problem at home, what to do. Here – I don't know…"

"What would you be doing if we were at your house?" Vin asked, genuinely interested. His empty stomach complained again and Chris shrugged.

"Guess I'd be giving you bananas and milk for lunch…" But he figured that wasn't the answer Vin wanted. "I'd just be trying to make you feel safe, whatever it took. But honestly – offering you a shoulder in the dead of night seemed a whole lot less intimidating than it does right now…"

A small smile turned up one corner of Vin's mouth, and Chris could tell it was real. "Nah, I'm not feeling so bad as I was that night…'sides, there's all kinds a'shoulders out there, and I could use another kind right now."

"What kind is that?"

"The kind with restaurants on speed dial…" Vin said. "What d'you want to have for lunch?"

"Hmph." Chris gave a snort of derision. "_JD and Ezra._"

to be continued


	41. Chapter 41

Chris called in an order for pizza delivery for lunch, then went to use the bathroom. When he came out, Vin was standing next to his desk, counting the money in his wallet.

"What are you doing?" Chris asked, though his tone implied he knew exactly what Vin was doing.

"I'm standing here counting my money." Vin answered him anyway.

"I'm buying."

"Let me pay."

"No, you're doing me a favor just coming in today, so -."

"Chris - I don't have much else left, but I do have money. Let me pay."

At first Chris thought Vin had been talking about not having much money left. Then he realized - Vin was talking about dignity, pride, and everything else that goes into making a man feel like a man. He felt like he didn't have much of any of _that_ left.

"Okay, but remember I like to tip big." Chris said. Vin rolled his eyes and sighed, and handed over some money.

"Here, you get to answer the door. And remember to say 'thank you' this time."

"What_ever_." Chris said, as though it was an intolerable request to make of him. They each went back to their chairs and their computers. Chris got involved in the wording of the email he was going to send out, asking people to notify him if they saw anybody on campus fitting the description of Vin's attackers.

He could hear Buck now, asking him _and what are you gonna do with them if you find 'em?'_ But Buck had also given him precise descriptions of the scum, descriptions that he'd gotten from Maria. And she was the excuse Chris was going to use if anyone asked him what was going on - that police had given out their descriptions, because they were wanted for questioning in an attempted assault on a teenage girl, and they'd been spotted on campus.

Still, he wondered if he ought to run it past Vin first. It was his life, after all. Might be he wouldn't want anybody mucking around in it. So, Chris saved his work to draft, and called over,

"Vin?" He got no immediate answer. "You over there?" When he still got no answer, he stood up from his chair to see what was going on.

Vin had pushed his keyboard aside, and was asleep at his desk, with his head on his arms. He had the picture of his parents tucked safely under one hand. Anger swelled up inside Chris again that Vin had been hurt so bad. Damn the bastards all to hell anyway, they weren't going to get away with it. He scanned his email one last time and hit _send_.

*/*/*/*

Noon couldn't arrive soon enough for Ezra. He had a tension headache the size of Manhattan and no painkillers equal to the task. He intended to treat himself to lunch at Inez's establishment, and indulge in a little liquid painkiller. Not only would it hopefully alleviate his headache, it would also do wonders for his nerves. He'd hardly been able to concentrate, wondering if Mr. Larabee intended to bring Vin to the meeting. Not that he should, not that he shouldn't. Vin after all nearly ran Groundskeeping, so bringing him to the meeting would be in no wise out of place.

But merely contemplating the possibility made Ezra's headache expand exponentially.

He muttered something even _he_ couldn't make out to the stiff, starched, stuffy secretary outside Judge Travis' office, and hoped his legs and his equilibrium would carry him at least as far as his car. Approaching the parking lot, he saw a pizza delivery boy going into Chase Hall, and he automatically said to himself '_I see that Mr. Larabee continues to have an abysmal sense of cuisine.' _

Then it hit him - was Vin in there with Chris? Were they having lunch together? They often lunched together before - before -. Ezra was surprised to realize that it rankled him to think Vin was not only at work, but answering emails and eating lunch. What difference did it make, and what difference should it _possibly_ make to Ezra what Mr. Tanner was doing with his time these days?

Ezra found his headache suddenly compounded by the intense sensation that the top of his head was about to give way under the pressure. He gave up all thoughts of driving off campus, and instead turned his steps to the Health Clinic.

*/*/*/*

A light tap on the door and a teenage boy carrying a pizza box and a couple liters of soda pop peeked cautiously into the office. "Chase Hall, room 111? Delivery for Mr. Larabee?"

"Yep. You can set it here on my desk." Chris came around the desk, and stood so that the delivery boy had to look _away_ from where Vin still slept behind his computer. He paid the boy, and tipped him reasonably, and waited so that he could shut the door behind him. He turned back to find Vin slowly coming awake, sitting up. One hand rubbed his the back of his neck, the other pulled the photograph of his parents close to his chest.

"You okay?" he asked. Vin shrugged.

"Just sleeping. Painkillers knock me out. Food's here?"

"Yeah." Chris pulled his chair over to Vin's desk and slid the computer a little out of the way so they could eat together. Vin opened his box of cheese, pepperoni, broccoli and pineapple pizza, and stared down at Chris' spartan choice of just cheese.

"Y'know, a pizza with just cheese on it is like milk without chocolate. Why bother?"

"You want me to tell you what they put in pepperoni?" Chris countered.

"Not if you want that to stay _just_ a cheese pizza." Vin threatened. "Think I oughtta sit closer to the bathroom door anyway, just in case. I'm not making any promises of this staying down." Chris gravely pulled his box all the way to the corner of the desk, behind the computer monitor. Vin cocked an eyebrow. "Don't underestimate me."

Chris wouldn't let that pass.

"Are you okay? I'm not worried about my lunch either. Or having to pay Mrs. Webber overtime. I told you that you didn't have to be here any longer than you wanted, and half a day is already over."

Vin frowned over his pizza and Pepsi, and seemed to give it honest consideration.

"I wanna stay Chris. I'm actually getting stuff accomplished, and I didn't think I would. I got a list of work needs to be done and I been emailing Sam back and forth, having him get the guys out to do the work. I bet I got more Maintenance work scheduled this morning than James got around to in the last month. School's starting up again in a couple weeks, the place needs this work to get done." He cleared his throat. "_I_ need this work to get done Chris. _I_ need to accomplish this."

*/*/*/*

Ezra rarely availed himself of the Campus Health Clinic. His ailments were his own concern, and he had no wish to reveal them to his friends, even when those friends were licensed professionals. But this day, and this headache, forced his hand and he allowed himself the luxury of immediate care and treatment. Nathan was on duty, and after a brief exam and several questions, he gave Ezra a dose of Tylenol with codeine with a bottle of water. Then he had him lie down in a dim room with the curtains drawn, and the lights turned off.

"I'll check on you in awhile Ezra. Try to get some rest now. There's an emesis basin on the table right next to the bed in case you get sick."

"Thank you Dr. Jackson." Ezra said, from behind a cold washcloth pressed over his eyes. "If my brain cells do explode and scatter themselves about the room, would you be so kind as to gather them back together for me?"

"I'll do that Ezra - now I'm gonna shut the door and leave you in peace, all right?"

"Nathan?" Ezra removed the washcloth; he had to tell someone else. "Did you know that Vin is on campus? I believe he may be helping Chris deal with the James debacle. I'm surprised - I didn't think - that is to say, one would imagine that after such a...I'm surprised, that's all." He replaced the cold washcloth and set his hands, clenched into fists, down at his sides. Nathan shook his head as he shut the door over.

"I'm going to have go check on that boy."

to be continued


	42. Chapter 42

Lunch was uneventful. The pizza and Pepsi stayed down, Vin stayed awake. Mostly to wonder out loud how Chris could even contemplate a pizza with nothing but cheese.

"This from the man who's combining pineapple with tomato sauce." Chris grumbled. "That's just not right..." and Vin responded by taking a big, messy bite of just that. He nearly choked on it though, and had to wipe pizza sauce from his mouth. Chris nodded knowingly. "That's what you get for mocking the pizza gods."

_"Pizza gods..."_ Vin muttered. He took a swallow of Pepsi to wash everything down. "Speaking of people who set themselves up as almighty - what time is that board meeting a'yours? Wouldn't want to keep the likes of Conklin and Mrs. Stephens waiting, y'know."

"Aw hell..." Chris turned awkwardly to get a look at the old schoolhouse clock that hung on the wall across from his desk. "Guess I should be packing up to get over there. I hate board meetings." He packed his trash into his wastepaper basket and rolled his chair back behind his desk. "Nobody is willing to make a decision all on their own, nobody wants to incur Conklin's outrage, nobody wants to risk Mrs. Stephen's money. Jellyfish, each and every one of them..." He grabbed a legal pad and pen, and pulled his suit jacket off the coat tree next to the filing cabinets.

"Ezra gonna be there?" Vin asked.

"I guess so, he always is."

"I mise well work on that hole in his wall while he's out of his office then. Got everybody else working or on lunch right now." Vin similarly threw out his trash and eased himself up and standing out of his chair. "Think you might take a detour to my office? I've gotta get some supplies."

"Sure."

*/*/*/*

This time, walking across the campus, Vin felt better than he had this morning. Maybe it was eating lunch. Maybe it was getting work done. Maybe it was encountering JD and Ezra, and surviving. Whatever it was - he kept a confident pace with Chris' admittedly slower than normal walk, and repeatedly reminded himself to keep his eyes off the ground.

The Groundskeeping building offered a wealth of familiar smells, and Vin took in a deep, welcome breath of wood, paint, fertilizer, motor oil, and hand cleaner. He felt even steadier, back on home territory. This was his space, in many ways. Here he was never _never_ unsure of how or what or why.

Just standing in the dusty atmosphere made his aches and pains seem less. He filled a plastic pail with the assorted things he'd need to patch a hole in a wall, and waved off Chris' offer to carry it. "Like you'd want to walk into a board meeting with plaster dust on your good jacket. I'm good, I've got it."

And he stood a little straighter as he walked with Chris over to Rockwell Hall.

*/*/*/*

Ezra was awakened from his less-than-restorative respite by the Rockwell clock tower chiming two pm. He uttered an uncharacteristic vulgarism.

"I'm late for the board meeting. Judge Travis will have my head." He propelled himself upright, and reeled from the combination of pounding head and rolling stomach. "And he is quite welcome to it..."

All clinic personnel seemed to be otherwise engaged, and so Ezra's progress from exam room to front door was unimpeded.

The sun was much too bright for his physical comfort, and he had to walk directly in its path to return to his office and the meeting. By the time he accomplished the Green, his eyes were burning. He made his way blindly up the marble steps into Rockwell Hall, and felt more than viewed his path to his office. He set his hand on the doorknob, intending to rest a moment, but the door wasn't shut tight and gave under his weight.

He stumbled slightly, blindly, into his office as the door swung open. He expected to fall and was surprised to feel hands catching him, and supporting him to a chair. With the pain and nausea and surprise, he could hardly make out the voice speaking to him, but he gratefully took the paper cup of water that was momentarily pushed into his hands and he drank it down in a few swallows. He settled back in the chair and took a chance to open his painful eyes.

"You have my undying gratitude -." Ezra stopped in shock.

_Vin._

Big as life, standing over Ezra, with only concern on his face- albeit a small amount of eccyhmosis as well - there stood Vin. Ezra couldn't decide if he should continue with his discourse of indebtedness - or run like hell.

"You need Nathan?" Concerned by the pale, shaking figure before him, Vin completely forgot the unspoken bad feelings between him and Ezra. "You look like you haven't got an ounce of blood left in you."

"I - I - no, I don't believe I currently require any medical intervention..." Ezra's stammering and pointed avoiding of his eyes brought the mess back to Vin's memory. He stepped away from the chair and turned back to the wall he was repairing.

"Didn't mean to surprise you." he said, as he taped the seams of the plasterboard patch. "Thought you'd be in that meeting. Wanted to get this hole taken care of for you..."

"Yes, well..." Vin heard Ezra go to his desk and gather up some papers. "I myself expected to be present as the gathering commenced; I was, however, forestalled by a rather monstrous headache which even now threatens to relieve me of whatever sustenance I may have consumed in the past eighteen hours."

Vin let him talk, and waited for him to leave. Ezra was talking in his nervous voice - he was nervous being near Vin. A couple of clicks on briefcase locks, and a few unsteady steps to the door, and they'd be rid of each other again.

With the patch taped, Vin bent down for another putty knife full of joint compound. His ribs twinged, which made his body stiffen, which made his back spasm. He sucked his pain in through his teeth, and forced himself to stand upright in front of Ezra, no matter how much it hurt. God only knew what Ezra was thinking, but Vin wasn't going to have him thinking that he was broken down.

Three more steps, two more steps, Ezra would be out the door and Vin could let out his pent up _'owwww'_. But Ezra didn't take that last step. He stopped just at the door, and Vin gave him a glance to figure out what he might be waiting for.

"Mr. Tanner..." and for the briefest second Vin was absolutely sure he saw concern in Ezra's eyes. But then it was gone, and Ezra gestured to the wall. "Thank you." and was gone, unsteadily, down the hall.

to be continued


	43. Chapter 43

As Ezra stepped into the Boardroom, he tried to summon to mind any recent incidences of walking under a ladder, breaking a mirror, or stepping on a black cat. None occurred to him however, so he was left wondering what precisely he might have done to incur the wrath of Fate: the only vacant seat left at the long, wide table was the one right next to Chris Larabee.

He knew it was too late to back out of the meeting again. As the rest of the room listened to Mrs. Stephen's standard prologue regarding her late husband's money – followed by the even more customary threat of her withdrawal of said funds should events not commence to her liking - Judge Travis had already acknowledged Ezra's presence with a nod, and an indication that he should take a seat.

_The_ seat.

The only seat.

_Right next to Chris Larabee. _

Calling upon years of experience in hiding his true feelings behind a blank face and a casual demeanor ~ even with a blazing headache ~ Ezra skirted the table and its volatile inhabitants, and took his seat.

_The_ seat.

Right next to Chris Larabee.

*/*/*/*

Chris noticed Ezra the second he stepped through the door - he'd been watching for him as soon as he saw that Ezra wasn't at the meeting. Ezra was always the first one in, setting out agendas and firing up the overhead when needed. At first Chris thought that Ezra might be hiding from him, but getting a look now at his face, and the pinched, painful expression he saw there, Chris could see Standish just wasn't well.

It was too hard having friends - just when you wanted to be royally pissed off at one, he came in looking as white as his shirt and ready to collapse at the slightest breath of a breeze. Chris lost the urge to assassinate him with a look as Ezra took the chair, and instead pushed his unopened bottle of water in front of him.

Life was just too complicated when the friend you wanted to throttle looked even sicker than the friend you wanted to protect.

*/*/*/*

Poison. Naturally. That was the only answer. The only possible reason that Christopher "Bad Axe" Larabee had just offered Ezra compassion in the form of generic bottled water. It was poisoned.

Ezra had no idea why he'd suddenly affixed that particular sobriquet on Mr. Larabee. Not that "Bad Axe" wouldn't be appropriate in most circumstances, but he'd never referred to Chris in that manner before. It was just something Vin had mentioned once...

Was it Ezra's imagination, or did everything lately wind back to Mr. Tanner?

Vin'd told Ezra some time before that Bad Axe was a town in Michigan, and that he hoped to go there, just to see what it was like. Sitting here now, in the board meeting, dosed up on codeine, with a monstrous headache and a treacherous stomach, Ezra had a sudden vision of Bad Axe Michigan being full of Chris Larabee clones. He would've laughed at the thought were he in less formal environs.

So, he filed the thought away as something to be laughed at later. He opened the proffered bottle of water, and hoped it truly was poisoned - at least he'd be spared the pain of the prolonged tirade Mrs. Stephens was currently spewing.

*/*/*/*

The wall and the taped patch pulsed in and out of focus as Vin attempted to smooth the joints with shaking hands. Lunch was a hard knot now that he had to fight to keep where it belonged. He wanted his Dad. Suddenly he just wanted his Dad. He'd take Vin home and let him rest, give him tea and toast with honey, have him sleep on the couch and just be there whenever Vin opened his eyes.

Nothing bad ever happened to Vin when his Dad was alive.

If he could just hold on until Chris came back out of that meeting – Chris would take him home. But who knew how long the meeting would take, and Vin couldn't interrupt it – wouldn't interrupt a board meeting just to ask Chris to take him home.

He began to pack his tools and materials back into the pail. All the aches and pains were back full force. His ribs ached, his back spasmed, the scratches pulled and itched under his clothes. If he could just make it back to Chris' office, he'd take more painkillers and sleep again. He'd lock the door and sleep until Chris came back.

If he could make it back to Chris' office.

The campus loomed wide and menacing in Vin's mind as he imagined walking back across it alone. Then he imagined walking across it with his Dad. Or with Chris or Buck or Josiah. Vin imagined walking across the campus less than a week ago when nothing had changed, and nobody hated him for something he didn't want to happen, and his life hadn't fractured into a million shards that he couldn't keep hold of.

But now – Ezra was nervous around him and JD was mad at him. Nettie apparently couldn't even stand to talk to him. Chris, Buck, and Josiah were all at work – and his Dad was gone and would never come back.

The pain was too much to bear. Vin wanted somebody with him _now_. Somebody who'd tell him what to do, how to hold on, somebody who'd tell him he didn't have to live and suffer and grieve alone anymore. But he was alone, and the pain felt like a hand squeezing down hard on his heart, and he knew he wouldn't be able to stand it another minute.

Vin left Ezra's office, not even taking his supplies with him. He walked as fast as he could down the hallway, not lifting his head, trying to breathe over the pain and fear and dread. If he could just make it back to Chris' office, he'd be all right. If he could just make it back to Chris' office… He repeated the one thought - _Chris' office_ - trying to keep his mind focused on just that.


	44. Chapter 44

It was only by sheer force of will that Vin didn't lose his lunch as he hurried toward Chris' office. He shouldn't have had the pizza. He shouldn't have had the soda pop.

He shouldn't have survived the attack.

Lying dead and buried couldn't feel this bad.

Suddenly, crossing the distance to Chase Hall seemed too much for Vin, and he headed for the nearest shelter – the shrine of St. Michael the Archangel that dominated the middle of the Green. The larger-than-life statue stood inside a stonework shelter that had several arched doorways on either side. Not quite indoors, it was enough not-quite-outdoors to make Vin feel relatively safe to sit inside on the first seat. He gripped the cement bench on either side of himself and leaned forward, trying to steady his breathing and wait for his heartbeat to get back under control. Still trying to keep his stomach from turning inside out.

One small part of his brain tried to get him to pay attention to what was happening and why, tried to get him to calm down and think rationally. That part of his brain was totally overridden by the fear and nausea. The more his heart pounded in his chest, the more the assorted aches, fractures, and lacerations pounded right along with it. The rush of blood roaring in his ears drowned out the sound of approaching footsteps.

*/*/*/*

JD knew that the Board Meeting was underway, and he knew that Chris had to be there, so he felt a little more secure going about his duties on the campus, before heading to the Student Union for a long-delayed lunch. Maybe he couldn't avoid Chris forever, but he'd try to make it take as long as possible.

As he walked across the Green, he glanced at the St. Michael shrine, and saw someone inside. Whoever it was, they didn't look well, head down, bowed over, and JD automatically turned to go to them. He was about fifteen feet away or so when he realized it was Vin. He stopped dead, and waited a second to see if Vin noticed he was there.

Then he waited another second to see if he could tell whether Vin was all right.

Vin didn't notice him, and he didn't seem to be hurt or anything, just sitting there, so JD moved away again. He looked back a few times as he walked to the Union. He should just check on Vin. He _was_ hurt after all, JD didn't want to just leave him there by himself. Wasn't like Vin was sitting there for his health, didn't look like anyway. There'd be no harm in just asking Vin if he was okay, or if he needed anything.

So, JD turned reluctant steps back toward Vin. But just as he did, he saw Nathan crossing the Green, heading right for the shrine. He breathed a long sigh of relief.

He was surprised when he realized the relief wasn't that he didn't have to go to Vin, but because he knew Nathan would take care of Vin.

Still, he stood and watched a moment just to be sure.

*/*/*/*

The hard knot that had been earlier in his throat, now felt firmly lodged against Vin's lungs. Not quite nausea, not quite fear, it felt more like – regret. He should've just stayed in his apartment and not told anybody what happened. He could've taken some sick days, or maybe told Chris he was going out of town, though he never went out of town. Maybe he should've driven somewhere and put his truck into a tree to explain his injuries, instead of telling the real reason. Maybe he could just tell everybody it was a mistake, that really he was okay. Not that anybody would believe him. But he'd rather hide behind that lie than stand with the truth.

He wondered how long Chris would be in that meeting, he couldn't interrupt a Board Meeting just to ask Chris to take him home. That would look great in front of the Judge and all the other Board members. He'd just take a few more minutes to catch his breath and then make one more attempt to reach Chris' office. He'd be okay if he could get to Chris' office. If he could get to Chris' office, all he had to do was wait until Chris came out of his meeting and then he'd take Vin home. And then anyway while he was waiting for Chris, there was still the bathroom right there in case he got sick again or if he wanted some water or if he needed to wash his hands and anyway he could lock the door and pull the blinds and nobody would know that he was in there and he'd be safe until Chris came back and –

"Vin?" The voice, and a hand on his shoulder, startled Vin. He pushed to his feet, shoved the other person away, and hurried out the nearest archway. _They _had found him. _They_ were after him. The voice, the hand, pursued him, reached out and grabbed him again and pulled him back.

"Vin? What is it?"

Prepared to fight off his attacker, it took a several seconds for Vin to focus on who it was. Nathan. It was Nathan standing there, holding onto Vin's arm to keep him from running away. Even when he did recognize him, the terror stayed so fixed and dry in his mouth that Vin couldn't say anything. When Nathan asked, "_Are you okay_?" all Vin could do was nod and try to swallow around the fear.

"I came looking for you." Nathan went on. "What in the sam hill are you doing here? You should be at home resting. You not well enough to be standing upright, much less doing physical work." He gestured to the flecks of joint compound on Vin's hand. "Chris ought to know better than to make you come to work."

"My idea." Vin finally got the words out. "Didn't want to – do nothing, sitting at home. I wanted to come to work." He pulled out of Nathan's grip. "Just – stopped for a minute to rest. I'm going back to Chris' office."

"Nuh unh. You come back with me to the clinic, let me check you over."

"I'm fine Nathan." There was a thin tremble in Vin's voice, fear that was turning into panic. "Leave me alone."

"I want to check your sutures, check those scratches for infection." Nathan went on as though he hadn't heard Vin's refusal. "I need to find out if those lacerations are healing…" He put his hand out again, as though to touch Vin. It was all too much.

"_No! You don't touch me. You don't come near me._" Vin shouted at Nathan. "_Nobody is ever coming near me again. You hear me? Get away from me. Leave me the hell alone._" But Nathan took hold of his arm anyway.

"Vin - ." and Vin pulled out his grasp so hard that he stumbled backwards right into the stone wall of the shrine. Pain exploded throughout his head and his body, and he sank down to the ground.

*/*/*/*

Chris lost count of the number of times Mrs. Stephens mentioned her late husband's money. Usually he passed the time at these meetings – and kept himself awake – by laying bets with himself beforehand, but this time his mind was a dozen different elsewheres. Glancing over at the legal pad Ezra was busily scribbling into, Chris saw that he was writing out lines of Shakespeare and poetry and advertising jingles. Chris decided that the very next time she stopped for a breath, he was going to call a halt to her little filibuster.

The moment came, and he was halfway out of his chair when the door to the Boardroom burst open and JD appeared, looking out of breath and worried. He only said two words: "Chris – Vin," and three men – Chris, JD and Ezra – were out of the office and gone.

*/*/*/*

When they got to the shrine, Vin was trying to push himself up on unsteady arms, snapping at Nathan every time he tried to get close enough to help. "_Don't touch me. Don't you dare touch me. I swear to God I'll kill you if you touch me._" His voice was hoarse with pain. Chris waved Nathan off and crouched in front of Vin, reassuring him even before he had the chance to threaten.

"I'm not gonna touch you Vin. Just settle down for a minute and catch your breath." And Vin did give up the struggle then. He sank back against the stone and squeezed his eyes shut, breathing heavily through clenched teeth. Chris looked around the area, a few people had noticed the commotion and were staring or walking up for a closer look. "JD – a little crowd control here? Ezra?" he pulled his keys out of his pocket. "Get my truck will you? Pull it right up here."

"Across the Green?" Ezra asked.

"Across Mrs. Stephens' damn Memorial Tulip Bed if you can manage it." Chris said. "Nathan – what happened?"

Before Nathan could answer, Vin opened his eyes, and saw the other men still standing there.

"What the hell are you looking at?" he continued to shout and made another weak attempt to stand up. "Get away from me – just get the hell away from me. I don't want you standing there –."

"Vin…" Chris interrupted him. "Take it easy, they're leaving OK? Just sit still for a minute."

"_Get 'em away from me. Just get them away from me."_ His voice had turned to pleading, and he shut his eyes again in pain. Ezra and JD moved off, and Nathan crouched next to Chris.

"He hit his back on the wall Chris. We need to get him to the clinic. When Ezra brings your truck, you bring him right over there. I'm going to go set up…" He left as well and Chris turned his attention back to Vin, who still had his eyes closed, and his head tipped back against the stone.

"God, I wish I was dead." Vin whispered.

"Don't even joke about that." Chris said seriously. Vin shook his head and needed a couple of breaths to answer.

"_I'm not joking. _I can't do this anymore. I can't. It's just too much."

"Just take things one at a time, Vin.".

"Things don't come at me one at a time Chris." Vin complained. "Seems to hit me like an avalanche every time." He took a few more shaky breaths. "I don't want to do this anymore." He sounded as young as Billy. "I want somebody to make it all go away."

"Okay Vin. I will." Chris promised, though he had no idea how he would keep that promise. His only thought right now was calming Vin down enough to convince to go to the clinic. "I'll make it all go away."

to be continued


	45. Chapter 45

Sharp, icy, blinding pain clawed through Vin's brain from the wound in back of his head to his eyes in front, and it twined down and through and around his spine and his arms and legs, until even the tips of his fingers twitched with it. He felt cold and hot and shivering, with chilly sweat rolling down his skin under his clothes.

He sat on the grass next to the shrine, with his arms under his knees and his head bent down, trying to wait out the surges and swells of pain. Chris had stood up again, probably waiting for Ezra to bring his truck over. Vin tried to picture Ezra Standish driving a beat up old pickup truck, but thinking about it only made his head swim worse.

One particularly sickening spasm rippled out from his spine and clutched at his ribs, and Vin sat back with a gasp, trying to ease it. Chris was at his side again in an instant.

"Vin –." He put his hand on Vin's shoulder and it seemed like he intended to say more, but Vin reached over blindly to grip that hand in his own.

"_Make it stop._" He barely managed to force out the words through clenched teeth. "_Please God Chris make it stop hurting." _

"Ezra's on his way with the truck Vin, we'll get you to the clinic." Chris sounded scared.

"_Don't – want – Ezra… don't – want – clinic…" _

"Vin – we have to get you to the clinic. You have to let Nathan take care of you."

"_Nathan's – fault_." Vin growled. "_Told him – leave me alone. Don't want – Nathan – don't want – Ezra…"_ Another spasm ricocheted through him. It made Vin arch his spine backwards, and when it passed, left him limp and enervated, and he collapsed against Chris.

*/*/*/*

Damn Ezra anyway for being slow. Watching Vin flinch and twist in agony against the stone wall, Chris almost gave in to the urge to get him into a fireman's carry and head for the clinic on his own. Just as he made up his mind to go ahead and do it, the episode seemed to pass, and Vin sagged against him. Chris put his arm around Vin to keep him upright and looked up gratefully to see his old Dodge come barreling across the up-until-that-moment pristine Green.

"Ezra's here Vin, we'll get you to Nathan."

"Don't want -." Vin started again and Chris cut him off.

"This isn't about what you _want_ anymore Vin. You _need_ to go to the clinic." He wasn't about to take 'no' for an answer, but he heard a whispered agreement.

"Okay."

Ezra hit the brakes and slid to a stop a safe distance from the two men. He got out of the truck, and came to stand next to them. He shifted a little, almost nervously, as though he wasn't sure what to do next. Chris gestured him over and nodded toward Vin.

"Get his arm, and be _gentle_."

But as Ezra nodded and stepped forward to help, Vin snapped at him. "_Don't want your help_." The sentence came out broken and ragged on sharp breaths of pain. Ezra stopped, but Chris gave Vin short shrift.

"Ah, shut the hell up, nobody cares what you want. C'mon Ezra." Chris noticed the hard look Vin turned on him, but at least he didn't offer any more argument as Ezra took a few hesitant steps forward and gently took hold of Vin's arm. Together they eased Vin to his feet. Once standing, Chris intended to support Vin over to the truck, but Vin pulled out of their grip.

"I can walk."

"You can't walk all the way to the clinic." Chris said.

"Like bouncing around in your truck is gonna do me any favors." Vin began to walk away, looking every step like he was about to topple forward. He only got as far as the truck though, and stopped to lean back against the grill. He held his arms pressed to his ribs. "You coming, or what?" he asked Chris.

"Yeah…" Chris wondered if Vin was agreeing to the truck now or not. "Ezra…"

"Ah yes…" Ezra anticipated Chris' next remark. "No doubt the Board Meeting is 'toast'. I shall convey your regrets…" Then Ezra's eyes flicked over to Vin. "Mr. Tanner…" But nothing else came out and Vin turned away and limped to the back of the truck. "Yes, well…" Ezra turned in the opposite direction and walked away.

*/*/*/*

Hell if Vin would show any more weakness in front of Ezra than he absolutely had to. Just standing up straight was agonizing, but he wouldn't show pain and he wouldn't show fear, and he sure the hell wasn't going to show _gratitude_. If Larabee didn't get in gear sometime soon, Vin decided he'd walk himself over to Ezra's office and put an even bigger hole in the wall than he'd just repaired. And he'd use Ezra to do it if he had to.

But in a few seconds, Chris was at his side. "Ready?"

"Not going to the clinic." Vin said. He expected a quick and pointed argument from Chris, so he was surprised to be asked:

"Where do you want to go?"

Though Vin ran every single possibility through his mind, he couldn't settle on any one place that he really wanted to go.

"I left my tools in Ezra's office."

"I'll send somebody over to get them for you." Chris said, and there was a hollow of silence while Vin still worked on sorting out what he wanted to do.

"Nathan's only gonna want me to – to –." he made a vague sweeping gesture with his arm. " – do things I don't want to do."

"You in a lot of pain?" Chris asked.

"Yeah." Vin admitted.

"Do you think you mighta done more damage to yourself? To your back?"

"I don't know, I guess I might have." Vin rolled his shoulders a little and the pain shot up and down his spine. "Sure does hurt."

"We'll go to the clinic Vin." Chris said. "And Nathan will not do or make you do one single thing that you don't want, okay?" and Vin gave him a long look before nodding.

"Okay."

*/*/*/*

Worse than Nathan – Rain was waiting for them as they made slow progress into the clinic. Normally, in "real" life, Chris liked Rain, and appreciated her thoroughness and dedication. But not now, not today. Nathan at least, Chris could generally bluff and bluster his way around when he had to. But not Rain.

She greeted them both and said, "Nathan told me to expect you. He's on a conference call right now, and I don't know how long he'll be."

"I'll wait." Vin said, and Rain probably thought he was joking. She smiled and then said to Chris:

"It will be awhile. I can call you at your office when we're all through."

"I'm staying."

Rain seemed surprised. "Well, if you'd like." She gestured to the waiting area. "It _will_ be awhile."

"I'm staying _with Vin._"

"No, Chris." She said it as though it was the final word. "You can wait out here, or you can wait in your office, but you can't be in the exam room."

Maybe it was the wasted hour spent listening to Mrs. Stephens' bullying monologue, maybe it was not getting enough sleep last night, maybe it was being so worried about Vin, or maybe it was nothing at all. Chris took a step slightly in front of Vin.

"_I stay or he doesn't." _

to be continued


	46. Chapter 46

As Ezra made his short, slow journey back to the Board meeting, he had the curious sensation of dragging something along behind himself. Not something physical of course, he knew that wasn't the case. Nevertheless, it was something quite tangible and heavy, and attempting to progress under its weight proved almost futile. The farther he removed himself from St. Michael's shrine, the more his mind was drawn back there and the agonies Vin had been suffering, and the heavier Ezra's burden became.

This situation was not improved by the sight of JD apparently waiting for Ezra at the steps of Ketchum Hall. It was too late and would be too obvious to attempt to elude him now, so Ezra took a deep breath and forged ahead.

"Mr. Dunne."

"Ezra…" JD clearly had something on his mind, so Ezra stopped and prompted,

"You wish to discuss the foregoing event?"

"Hunh?"

Another sigh and a roll of his eyes that he just couldn't help. "You wish to discuss what just happened with Mr. Tanner?"

"Oh – yeah. Yeah. I just – I mean…" JD stammered a moment. "You ran out there pretty fast to help him." It almost sounded like an accusation.

"As you did yourself." Ezra pointed out. "You even summoned Mr. Larabee to his aide."

"Oh – yeah. But – I mean, if Chris found out something happened to Vin and that I knew but didn't tell him – well I wouldn't want to be me if Chris found out a thing like that."

The thinking was convoluted enough – and the rationale was JD enough – that Ezra was inclined to believe him. But as that rationale did not satisfy the question of his own conduct, Ezra cast a questioning eye on JD.

"Well, it just happened." JD went on. "I didn't think about it, I just…y'know? Nathan was there and Vin was yelling and then he fell and I couldn't not help him. I just ran and got Chris. I couldn't not help Vin – you know?"

Strangely… "Yes Mr. Dunne, I do know…"

*/*/*/*

"_What is your problem?"_

"_I could ask you the same thing."_

"_My only concern is for Vin."_

"_And mine isn't?"_

"_Your attitude isn't helping him."_

"_Neither is yours."_

After awhile, the voices blurred so that Vin could no longer differentiate between Chris yelling at Rain, and Rain yelling at Chris. He couldn't blame either one of them; Chris was being deliberately annoying, and Rain was being deliberately annoyed. She opened drawers that she took nothing out of, just because Chris was standing in front of them. She muttered once or twice 'this isn't going to work' and added a few more choice words, and spent a whole lot of time trying to need _all_ the space in the little exam room.

Chris for his part never got around to telling Rain that he was staying because Vin was scared. Maybe Rain would've understood that. Then again, maybe not. But Vin was pretty sure that Chris' minimal explanation of _'I'm staying because I'm staying'_ was offered solely to piss off Rain. Because it sure did work. The argument had erupted not five minutes after Chris and Vin walked into the clinic, and it raged still.

With the result that Vin hadn't been looked at yet.

Finally, though Vin couldn't say why, the argument raged its way out of the exam room and into the hallway, leaving him alone. He thought about lying down, but didn't think his back would support him doing that without a lot of pain. He thought about sneaking out, but the coast definitely was not clear yet.

He thought about not wanting to live with this pain and shame anymore.

So then he had to _not_ think about all the possible ways to make that happen.

Nathan came into the exam room after a few minutes, shaking his head. "Don't know as I'd like to place bets on who's going to win _that_ one…" he said of the angry debate still alive in the hall. "Both of them ought to know better than to go twisting the other one's tail…" He shut the door and stood in front of Vin. "How are you?"

"Tired of hurting."

"I can imagine." Nathan said, without a word about being sorry to have caused Vin his latest physical trauma. That annoyed Vin. Bolstered by the knowledge that Chris was only – literally – a shout away, Vin decided he'd had enough.

"I'm also tired of people trying to decide for me where I'll go and what I'll do, and not taking my word for their answer." That retort hit its mark, and Vin saw a flicker of shame cross Nathan's face, and he realized he was glad.

"Vin, you need to have your injuries monitored."

"No, I need to do what _I_ need to do, and not one damn thing more. So you tell me what you want to do, and I'll tell you what I'll _let_ you do."

*/*/*/*

"Chris, the examination will go a lot more smoothly, and be much less embarrassing for Vin if you aren't there." Rain insisted.

"It won't embarrass Vin to have me there, because you're not going to be doing anything he doesn't want you to do."

"He has severe physical wounds that need to be taken care of."

"Yeah, and he's got some emotional wounds that are even worse, Rain. You don't seem to care anything at all about them."

"I realize that Vin has suffered a trauma but the very fact that he came to work today testifies to the fact that he is dealing with this crisis very well."

"Oh get over yourself, will you? The only thing it 'testifies' to is that I didn't want to leave him by himself for eight hours or better."

"He doesn't need a babysitter." Rain said.

"No – he needs a friend. He needs a lot of friends, and from what I can tell, he doesn't have as many as he did a week ago." Chris' remark seemed to bristle Rain. Her voice dropped.

"You're not his only friend." She said.

"And you're sure the hell not the only doctor in town."

The tirade came to an end when Nathan stepped between the two combatants. "You can both put a sock in now; you drove away all our patients, and set off three car alarms. Plus the object of your '_discussion'_ has gone back to x-ray with Amanda."

"What did you do to him?" Chris asked, no small threat in his voice.

"Nothing that he didn't _want_ me to do. He agreed to x-rays and having me look at his back. Nothing else. If you want to go back and wait for him Chris – _please do_. Let's see if we can regain some professional composure around here."

With one final glare, Chris moved past the two doctors and walked down to the x-ray suite.

to be continued


	47. Chapter 47

Vin appreciated the x-ray tech's professionalism. She guided and supported his aching body into the correct positions for the x-rays without one word, comment, or even a gasp at the devastation running rampant across his chest, back and shoulders. He didn't mind her touching him. Her warm hands were a nice contrast to the chilly room, and she was gentle enough that she didn't cause him any more pain.

The pain he was already in wore him out fast though. Amanda told him they were done, and that he could put his shirt back on, while she developed his x-rays. But even the simple movement of lifting his arm into the sleeve proved too much, and he stood for a while, just holding the two shirts in front of himself, trying to summon the energy to get dressed. He didn't want _anybody_ to know how bad he was feeling just now.

"Hey –." The door popped open and Chris looked in. He took in Vin's state, half-dressed, and must've thought he'd interrupted him. "Sorry. I'll give you a minute."

"No Chris – wait." Vin called him back. "You have to …" He stopped. Did Chris really _have to_ do anything? And anyway, Vin hadn't needed help getting dressed since before his Mom died. And did he really want Chris getting an up close look at his wounds? But did he really want to stand here all day, get dressed by inches? He held out the shirts that were almost too heavy in his hands. "Would you help me?"

"Yeah." Chris' answer was immediate and definite. He came in and let the door shut behind. "You okay?" He took the shirts from Vin, and shook them out to separate them.

"Hurts so bad I can hardly move."

"Nathan say anything worthwhile?" Chris draped a shirt over his arm, the one he'd loaned Vin. The other shirt he held open and low enough that Vin could get his arms in without raising them.

"Couldn't tell – too much yelling in the hallway to hear him…" Vin tried to sound annoyed, but had to add, "Thanks for sticking up for me with her. Don't think I woulda had the strength to stick up for myself." He let Chris ease the first shirt over his shoulders then he tried to get his shaking hands to work the buttons. Without being asked, Chris came around the front of him and took over the task.

"I don't know – you seemed to do pretty well with Nathan. He said you let him look at your back, how come you didn't want him to look at the cut on your head?"

Vin tried to shrug, but it hurt too much. "Just being ornery."

"Ha! Well I'd say he deserved that." Chris finished the buttons and held out the next shirt, his shirt, for Vin to slide his arms into. "In _between_ the yelling, did he say anything?"

"Just that he had to check the x-rays first. Didn't even say he was sorry for making me fall." The second shirt didn't get buttoned, so after it was on, Vin took a few steps away from Chris. "I just want to take a handful of painkillers and go to sleep. I can't do this anymore."

"Maybe it was too much coming back to work so soon." Chris walked past Vin, to a small desk and a plastic institutional chair. He nudged the chair toward Vin, who set himself into it with a sigh.

"Maybe."

"We'll figure out something different for tomorrow. If all you're doing is exchanging emails, you can do that from home." Chris leaned back against the x-ray table set in the middle of the floor and folded his arm. "And Nathan better hope he never puts you into a wall again."

*/*/*/*

Nettie spent most of her day unable to concentrate on even the simplest household tasks. Her mind would trail off to thinking about Vin for long moments, and when she came back to the present, she'd find herself standing with a dust cloth in her hand, or the vacuum cleaner roaring unattended, or the teakettle boiling itself dry. Finally she gave up all attempts at housekeeping. She made herself some tea and sat in one of the upholstered rocking chairs in front of the bay window in her dining room.

On the small table between the two chairs, in a worn frame she'd inherited from her grandmother, stood her favorite photograph of Vin. He didn't even know she was taking it, back in early summer on his birthday. They'd celebrated at her house, Vin and all his friends. He and Chris were sitting on the top step of the porch, talking about something, and Nettie'd come around the side of the house with her camera, and snapped it without him even knowing. A little enlarging, a little cropping, and she had a close up three quarter profile of his face. Whatever he and Chris were talking about, Vin was smiling, almost laughing, with a soft crease of laugh lines at his eyes.

Of course, Vin didn't like the picture, and whenever he came over, he pushed the fake fern in front of it. At first Nettie would move the fern out of the way again, but after awhile, she let him get away with hiding the picture, and when he was gone again, she'd move the fern and take a long long look at the photograph. It amazed her how fast that boy had become so important to her, how quickly he'd become an indispensable part of her life.

Now he'd been brutally attacked, and she was worried about _propriety_.

She leaned forward to pick up the photograph. Vin could be a puzzling man, especially the first few months she knew him. Just when she decided he was outgoing and assertive because he was forever jumping in to help someone else, he became shy and quiet at being praised or if he needed help himself. Just when she decided he was shy and quiet and eminently polite, he'd walk up to her on her porch and announce, "_Hey Nettie, I just figured out – you're old enough to be Josiah's mother_!" Just when she decided he was a smart aleck who liked to rib his friends at every opportunity, he'd move quickly and unobtrusively to diffuse a situation that was proving embarrassing to someone else.

Just when she thought that she thought he'd be better off dead, she missed him so much it actually hurt.

*/*/*/*

Physician and friend bridled in each other's presence, Chris and Rain eyeing each other like porcupines planning offensive strategy. Vin tried to ignore them and concentrate on Nathan giving him the results of the x-rays. He tried to ignore the shrinking supply of oxygen in the tiny exam room that _everybody_ claimed the chance to stand in.

"So I'm adding a muscle relaxant too…" Nathan was saying. "In case you get the spasms again. And I want you to take it easy. No coming to work tomorrow, you understand me?"

"I'll take it under advisement." Vin said, and stood up from the exam table. "We done?"

"I mean it, Vin." Nathan's voice was stern. "No need to go pushing yourself before you're ready. After – after what happened to you, it'd be only normal to want to take some time for yourself. There's nothing so almighty important on this campus that you have to be out in public before you're ready."

" '_Out in public'_?" Vin snapped. "Hell Nathan, I'm not a deformed baby y'gotta hide away from folks. Just gimme the damn pills and let me get outta here."

But Nathan persisted.

"Vin, what happened to you -." He started to say. Vin had started to leave the room, but he turned at Nathan's words.

"What happened to me - happened to _me_. Not to anybody else. _I_ decide what I need and where I'll go and what I'll do. The both of you…" He included Rain in his anger. "You get paid for your advice, not your opinions, so you mise well keep 'em outta my way. If I come into work tomorrow, it's because _I_ want to come into work tomorrow. If I wanna hide, then I'll hide. If I'm scared, then I'm scared. If I get angry, then I'll get angry. I don't need to be worrying about what anybody else thinks about _what happened to me_. You got that?"

Without waiting for an answer, he left the exam room, and he left the clinic.

to be continued


	48. Chapter 48

Well, the day had started out abysmally for Ezra and as of late afternoon, it had yet to improve. Not only did Mr. Dunne insist on dogging his steps back to his office, but once he attained said office – there sat Judge Travis, behind Ezra's desk, waiting for him. The look on his face was not that of a happy man.

"Mr. Standish." The Judge intoned over his bifocals. "Perhaps you could enlighten me as to why one seventh of my Board members felt the need to suddenly bolt from today's proceedings?"

Ezra sensed JD turn a startled look at him, but he didn't take his eyes from the Judge. He was in no mood to defend his actions at the moment; he was also in no mood to be further reprimanded by his boss. He decided to quilt a little truth into a little prevarication.

"This past Friday afternoon, Mr. Tanner was involved in an altercation. He sustained serious injuries and yet –." Ezra gestured to the patched wall and bucket of tools still remaining. " – he returned to work today. Apparently, unfortunately, his injuries overtook him while he was seeing to the repairs of my wall, and he collapsed on the Green on the way to the Clinic. Hence Mr. Dunne's precipitous summons of Mr. Larabee from the Board Meeting."

"And _your_ 'precipitous' departure from the meeting occurred because…?"

The Judge's question hung a moment while Ezra struggled to define the answer for himself. Finally, he offered the best answer he could.

"It is Mr. Tanner's habit to hasten to the assistance of his friends and colleagues, no matter the circumstance, without thought or hesitation." Ezra said. "I found I could do no less on his behalf."

*/*/*/*

It didn't take much persuasion on either side for Vin to decide he wanted to go home, and for Chris to decide he'd take him. They closed up shop in Chris' office and walked back through the long corridor of Chase Hall, to the exit that opened closest to the parking lot. Vin had decided to wait until he was practically lying down already before he took more painkillers or the muscle relaxant; otherwise he knew Chris would have to carry him into the house.

The truck – and escape – were both within sight when Judge Travis appeared from around the corner of the building. Any hope that he might just be passing by disintegrated as he walked directly up to the two men.

"Mr. Tanner…" he looked Vin up and down. "You've been brawling?"

Tired of lying and exhausted by the truth, and wanting to just go _away_, Vin answered him, "I got in the way of some creeps who were trying to molest a little girl neighbor a'mine. They didn't take kindly to the interference."

"_I can imagine_. Would that be the reason behind that email you sent out earlier?" The Judge asked Chris. Vin shot Larabee a sharp look.

"Yeah." Chris said. "JD said he saw a couple guys matching their description on campus the other day. With classes starting up, and a new crop of freshman girls coming in, can't take any chances."

"I agree." Judge Travis turned his attention back to Vin. "Well Mr. Tanner…" he sounded stern at first, then his voice became unexpectedly gentle as he peered at Vin over his glasses. "_Are you all right?_"

"_No_." Vin surprised even himself with that response. "Got a concussion, cracked ribs, a cracked vertebrae, got my head laid open for me, and more bruises than I can count." He didn't mean to sound bitter. "So no – I'm not all right." He didn't wait for whatever else the Judge might say. He turned and walked toward Chris' truck, but he heard Chris say:

"I'm taking him home Orrin. I shouldn't have let him come to work at all. I'm not sorry I cut out of the Board meeting, though. Marian Stephens is the most pompous harpy I've ever wanted to throttle."

The Judge didn't answer that.

"Will you be back tomorrow?" he asked.

"I don't know. He's not too steady on his own yet. I won't leave him alone if I don't think he's up to it."

"I understand…take care of him Chris." That apparently ended the conversation as Chris walked to the truck. He unlocked the passenger door while muttering something about tulips and harpies.

"Were they really on campus?" Vin had to know. "It wasn't just somebody talking? It was them? Are you sure?"

"From what JD said they were talking about, it seemed like it was them…" Chris said. Vin closed his eyes and sagged against the truck. "I shouldn't have brought you to work today Vin. I shouldn't have let you out of my sight. When JD called me out of the meeting I thought –."

"You didn't say anything about me did you?" Vin asked. "In the email?"

"No, I didn't mention you at all…"

Vin nodded, and they got into the truck. As they drove off the campus, he said, "I don't think I can come back tomorrow."

"It's OK Vin. We'll work something out."

*/*/*/*

"So, what were you and Chris arguing about?" Nathan asked Rain, as they stocked the supply room at the end of their day. She made a gesture of exasperation.

"That man can be the most provoking, irritating, overbearing…"

"You're not telling me anything I don't know already Sweetheart…" Nathan prodded

"He insisted he was going to stay with Vin, in the room, while I examined him. He refused to take no for an answer."

"Rain – 'no' is a language Chris doesn't speak."

"What did he think he'd be accomplishing? Why did he think he needed to hover as though Vin needed to be protected? The man is impossible." She turned to a cupboard and started putting away folded exam gowns.

"Well Vin isn't too strong yet. I can understand Chris wanting to stick close." He stood beside Rain and handed the gowns to her. "He's been like Vin's big brother since the day they met."

"Vin is _fine_. It's been five days, _and_ he was at work today. Vin's not a stupid man, he knows what happened, and he's dealing with it. You know we don't live in the Victorian Age anymore, where_ being_ raped is the crime. "

"Things might have changed for women – and I'm not sure they have – but it's a hundred times worse for a man." They finished with the gowns and started on boxes of alcohol wipes.

"Spare me the macho posturing and pride, Nathan. Rape is just one more crime, like being mugged or burglarized. I worked in New York City, I've been mugged. It's not a big deal."

Nathan really didn't like it when Rain spoke in that '_of course my experience counts for the whole world'_ tone of voice, as though no other possibility existed but her own opinion.

"It _is_ a big deal Rain," he said. "That man's life will never be the same again. They didn't just invade his home and his space, they invaded his _body_, against his will. You can't lose your pride and your privacy any more completely than that."

Rain shook her head, but didn't answer; her way of saying that particular conversation was over.

"It _is_ a big deal." Nathan repeated.

to be continued


	49. Chapter 49

Chris pulled into his driveway next to his mother-in-law's Mercedes. He opened his door, and turned to see if Vin needed any help. But, sunk down lower than normal in the passenger seat, Vin wasn't making a move to get out.

"What d'you suppose Rain's problem is?" Vin asked, and Chris shut his door again. "Maybe I _am_ making too much of this? Maybe I _should_ be over it by now?" Chris could tell from the tone of his voice that Vin wanted somebody to dispute that. Which was just as well, because Chris was _going_ to dispute it.

"Buck said it's like getting hit by a truck, by a monster truck. You think you'd be over that by now?" Chris kept his voice conversational; what he really wanted was to give Rain a good shake.

"No…but this isn't like getting hit by a truck. This is – less _external_…" Vin's face went crimson at the remark. Chris wondered if he was referring to the emotional or the physical, but he wasn't about to ask. He settled himself back against his own seat and sighed.

"Vin – sometimes _life_ drives a monster truck."

"Well, I wish life would keep on driving and not stick around revvin' its motor…JD really saw 'em? They were really on campus?"

Chris nodded.

"Seems like."

"Hmm…" Vin fiddled with his seatbelt but still didn't get out. "You think Rain never got hit by a truck? Not necessarily _my_ truck, I mean. But – I used to appreciate that she was never a 'warm fuzzy' person, y'know? If I get hurt, give me a bandage and let me go, don't need any TLC. But this – man, you think she'd have a little more compassion. Being a doctor. Being a _woman_. I really hate that she thinks it's all over and done."

"I don't know Rain all that well." Chris said. "From talking to her, from what Nathan says, her father was a military doctor. Might be where she gets it from. You know, patch 'em up and send 'em back to battle." He shrugged. "I don't know. I hope she gets a clue before I add her to the list of people I want to run over with the bulldozer…"

Vin turned to him then.

"What would you do – if you caught up with one of them? What would you do to them?" Chris didn't answer him. "Don't – y'know, don't –."

"I won't get caught." Chris assured him. But Vin shook his head.

"_Don't get hurt." _

*/*/*/*

Vin went up to his room as soon as they walked into the house. He could hear Chris talking to Billy and Evie, but he didn't want to have to see anybody else. There were more clean clothes at the foot of his bed. He decided to take a shower – then reminded himself he wouldn't feel clean anyway. But he knew he would've taken a shower after a day like today, before the attack, so what was different about now? The clothes were there, the hot water was there. He could take his painkillers and muscle relaxers, and by the time he was done with the shower they would've started working and he could lay down and sleep.

Before he could argue with himself any more, Vin grabbed the clean clothes and went to take a shower.

*/*/*/*

"Vin?"

"Mhmhm?"

"Vin?"

"Hmhmhmm."

"You in there?"

"Mrhmrrhmhr."

Chris wondered if he should make Vin wake up for dinner – or leave him face down in his pillow to get the sleep he really needed. He'd taken a shower, but Chris didn't know immediately if that was a good or bad thing. Vin was still wearing Chris' shirt over his own. It was Chris' favorite shirt, but he kind of appreciated that it made Vin feel safer or better to be wearing it. He'd let him keep it as long as he needed to.

"Vin – dinner?"

"Nhnhnngnnhry."

Well, Chris decided to take that for a no. He turned to leave and his foot nudged something under the bed. He bent down to pick it up - it was the bottle of Vin's painkillers, better than half empty. Chris didn't think Vin should've gone through that much from Saturday to Tuesday.

"Vin – how many painkillers did you take?"

"_Buha_." Vin's answer into the pillow wasn't good enough for Chris. He gave Vin's shoulder a rough shake and raised his voice.

"_How many painkillers did you take?"_

Vin pushed himself onto his side with a very tired motion and blinked up at Chris.

"What?"

That about put Chris as the end of his patience. He demanded again,

"_**How many painkillers did you take?**_**" **

"One – took one a'each." Vin mumbled his words. "Whadya shoutin' for?"

"_Each_? You took a painkiller _with_ a muscle relaxant?"

"Yeah. Hell yeah. Didn't want…any more pain…" Vin's eyes shut as he was answering. "Whadya shoutin' for? Not deaf."

"You just – you gotta be careful is all…" Chris changed his tone. "Wouldn't want you to – stop breathing or anything." Vin lifted a weary hand, but didn't open his eyes.

"Still…breathing…gimme the bottle…"

"I'll leave it on the desk here…" Though Chris didn't want to leave it anywhere Vin could get to it unsupervised. "Just – don't take so many. OK? _OK_?" he repeated when Vin didn't answer.

"_Oooo…kayyyyy…"_ Vin drawled out. He dropped his hand back onto the mattress. "Lemme sleep."

"You gonna eat dinner?"

"Later…tomorrow…wanna sleep."

"OK…I'll check on you later…" He got no answer, and didn't push for one this time.

*/*/*/*

Buck was surprised - _very_ surprised – to find JD waiting for him when he left work. He thought about ignoring him, even though he was standing next to Buck's truck, but he decided it might be an interesting conversation. He stopped in front of JD, but didn't say anything.

"Hey Buck…" JD almost sounded a little scared. "Buy you dinner? I uh – I wanted to talk to you about – something."

"_Something_?" Buck wasn't going to let him off easy.

"Yeah, y'know. I just – something happened at work today and I just… I know you think I'm a jerk and I just –."

"What happened at work?" Buck managed to keep his voice casual, though it worried him.

"I don't know, not really. Vin and Nathan were talking or arguing or something. Vin fell and hit his back. Chris took him home. I just – thought maybe we could talk?"

Buck let out a long, audible breath as he considered 'talking' when the urge he was feeling was closer to 'throttling'.

"I gotta stop by Vin's place first, pick up his mail, make sure everything is OK in his apartment. We can hit Inez's after that, you wanna _talk_."

*/*/*/*

JD didn't feel right going into Vin's apartment when he wasn't there, even with Buck leading the way. He could feel Buck's irritation with him like waves, still he didn't stray too far from Buck's side.

"You wanna see where it happened?" Buck asked.

"No!" It came out too fast and too anxious. Then he realized, "I didn't know it happened in here."

"In there…" Buck pointed him to the bathroom, while he checked the caller ID. "We had to replace all the wallpaper, the shower curtain, and the medicine chest."

"Why?"

"All the blood." Buck told him casually. "From that crack they put in his head. Whole wall was covered with it, shower curtain was sprayed with it. Floor was thick with it. Mirror was shattered where they slammed his head against it…" As he spoke, he jotted some numbers down from the caller ID. "I tell you, it was pretty gruesome."

"I – I – I didn't know." JD stammered. Buck gave him a hard look.

"No, I guess you _didn't_ know."

to be continued


	50. Chapter 50

On the way from Vin's apartment to Inez's restaurant, Buck called Mary on his cell phone to let her know he wouldn't be there for dinner. Then he pondered what direction he wanted this little "_conversation_" with JD to take. He figured Chris was right - hollering at JD or getting him riled wouldn't do Vin any good. He decided to take the scarier route – he'd be_ nice_ to JD.

*/*/*/*

"So, how are things going at work?" Buck asked as they set themselves into a booth. He kept a slight edge in his voice, not wanting JD to catch on to his plan.

"Okay. Things always get a little crazy just before classes start up again." JD sounded nervous and a little wary. "Plus I guess Chris is finding out a lot of stuff that James never got around to taking care of…Chris and Vin I mean."

"I bet. Seems like that fella retired and forgot to let anybody else know."

The waitress took their orders and brought them each a beer. Buck sat back in his seat, with one long arm draped along the top of the bench, and watched JD, who nervously picked at the label on his beer bottle and stammered out a lot of words before getting to the point.

"So – I guess I don't really understand what happened. To Vin."

"I guess not." Buck said. "You and Ezra got so tied up in what you _supposed_ happened that you didn't waste any time trying to figure out what _didn't_ happen."

That seemed to pinch JD a little.

"Don't put me in with Ezra. I mean – Ezra thinks that Vin – well, you know what Ezra thinks. I don't think _that_ - not really. I don't think I do."

"What _do_ you think happened, JD?" Buck made sure to keep his voice down – and casual. "I know you think Vin _let_ them attack him. But what exactly does that mean to you?"

"Well – you know how Vin is, he doesn't even like people standing too close to him sometimes. If he let - _that_ - happen to him…"

"You think he didn't put up a fight? Or enough of a fight?" When JD kind of shrugged, kind of nodded, Buck told him. "I tell you what JD. Next time you see Vin, take a look at his hands. You don't get bruised fingers and raw knuckles from 'letting' anything happen. Take a look at his face, take a look at the way his stands, and how he protects his ribs. Watch him walk. You don't _let_ somebody beat you so bad you can't stand up straight."

The conversation stopped as the waitress delivered their food, chili for JD and pizza for Buck. When the waitress left again, Buck let out a sigh.

"JD – I can tell you exactly what happened to Vin if you want."

"_No_ – oh, no Buck. I wouldn't want to…uh – you don't have to –."

"Relax, I don't mean the explicit details. But if you're so all fired sure that Vin let it happen, I think you need to know exactly what it was that he let happen."

"Uhh. Oh – okay. Sure." But JD didn't sound too sure, as he destroyed his crackers into his food. Watching him stir the chili, Buck's plan came a little more into focus.

"You know they attacked him because he stopped them from molesting a little girl in his apartment building?"

That was JD's first surprise.

"No. I didn't know that."

"After he scared 'em away from the little girl and got her back to her apartment, they came back after him. Figured out what apartment he lives in and broke in on him while he was taking a shower." Buck saw JD flush a little at the image, and decided to jump straight to the point. "He fought 'em JD. He fought 'em hard. If he _had_ 'let them', they coulda done what they wanted and hardly left a mark on him. Instead they had to kick him and beat him until he _couldn't_ fight back. They broke his ribs and slammed his face into the towel bar. That's how he got the black eyes."

The flush retreated as JD's face grew pale.

"They cracked his spine y'know. A fella at the precinct told me that to do that, they pretty much had to jump on top of him."

A spoonful of chili stopped midway between the bowl and JD.

"There was blood and vomit and piss everywhere in that bathroom. Hand marks on the wall where you could see Vin tried to drag himself away but they just kept pulling him back."

The spoon dropped into the bowl as JD covered his mouth with his hand. He'd gone stark white. Buck pressed the advantage.

"And his head – they pounded his head into the mirror on his medicine cabinet so hard it shattered the glass. Left chunks of skin and hair and blood stuck in the -."

JD fled the booth, heading for the restroom. Inez saw him rushing away, and walked over to Buck.

"Is JD all right?"

"Oh yeah, don't worry about him." Buck said. "He's just finding out that reality don't taste as good as he thought it did."

*/*/*/*

Chris went upstairs periodically just to make sure Vin still was breathing. Each time, he found him in the exact same position he'd left him – dead asleep, face down in the pillows, with his arms wrapped around a tangle of blankets. He had the pictures of his parents pressed close again.

At dusk, after dinner, Chris stopped a minute, and sat in the chair at the desk next to the bunk bed. He'd been so busy these past four or five days just making sure that Vin stayed safe and sane, he hadn't stopped to be thankful that Vin _was_ safe and sane.

He sure hadn't spent a lot of time dwelling on what Vin had been through to put his safety and sanity into doubt.

Even now, sitting here watching Vin sleep, Chris couldn't form a distinct image of the brutal attack. Of course, he wasn't trying too hard. He knew what fear felt like, he knew what it tasted like, and he could well imagine that any fear he'd ever suffered, Vin had experienced a thousand times worse.

Buck once kiddingly referred to Vin as Chris' 'little brother'. Not in Vin's hearing of course – and really, not kidding so much either. Chris hadn't even thought about it then. Buck had no close blood family and it was just part of his nature to absorb all of his friends into his circle of 'family'. But Chris thought about it now. It was possible, he supposed. Vin sure didn't have any close blood family either, though he was more likely to keep people at arm's length. Even friends. Chris might not refer to him out loud as kin, but that didn't mean he couldn't feel it.

It didn't mean that he didn't feel it already.

On the bed, Vin twisted a little, and seemed to be pulling away from something. He turned his face out of the pillow, gasping '_don't'_ in a weak voice. Chris reached out to touch Vin's arm and pull him from the nightmare before it got worse. Vin opened his eyes, but Chris couldn't be too sure he was focusing on anything in particular.

"_Chhrriiiisssssss?_" slurred out of him, still caught in the wake of one too many painkillers.

"I'm here." Chris said. Vin looked up at him once and then closed his eyes.

"Lemme sleep."

Chris smiled at his 'little brother's' complaint. "Yeah Vin, I'll let you sleep."

*/*/*/*

JD came back from the bathroom and took his seat again. "You feeling better?" Buck asked. He almost really meant it.

"You did that on purpose."

"Yeah I did - I told the truth _on purpose_." Buck pushed a fresh bottle of beer towards JD. "What'd you think? They knocked on his door and said, 'hey, can we come in and destroy your life?' and Vin just said 'okay'? Geez JD, get a clue why don't you?" That put a hurt look on JD's face.

"I don't know why you're mad at me..." He sounded a little sullen. "It's not like I did anything -."

"Y'told Ezra." Buck interrupted him, rattling his grievances off like a shopping list. "Told Casey so that Nettie found out. And _you're_ angry at Vin like _he_ did something wrong." JD didn't say anything. "What - did I miss something?" Buck sniped. JD shot him as nasty a look as he ever had.

"_I_ didn't do anything wrong."

"_Neither did Vin._"

After a brief visual standoff, JD threw some money down on the table and stormed out of the restaurant.

to be continued


	51. Chapter 51

_He wasn't going to get away. No matter what he tried or how hard he fought, he wasn't going to get away. He couldn't call for help. Wouldn't call for help. Nobody could know. Nobody could ever know. He wasn't going to get away. Please God just make them stop. Somebody please just make them stop..._

Vin sat up in bed with a sharp gasp, chilled through and shaking with fear. Even with the narrow shaft of light coming through the doorway, it took a few long seconds for his eyes to adjust to the room. He was alone. No attackers lurking in the shadows, no blood or gore or worse covering him. Just a dream, he realized. Just a nightmare.

Then he realized something else.

*/*/*/*

"I tell you Chris - you shoulda seen how many shades of green that boy turned before I finally got him to lose his lunch." Buck slouched on the sofa, holding a bottle of beer in his hand; Chris was in the recliner with his own bottle. "You woulda been proud a'me."

"I gotta hand it to you Buck, you sure do know how to teach a lesson."

"Yessir, I reckon I must've been a teacher in another universe." Buck said. Chris laughed and shook his head at the thought of Buck being a teacher. Just as he was taking another sip of beer, they heard some noise overhead. "Sounds like Vin's awake."

"Yeah." Chris folded up the recliner and set his bottle down. "I'm gonna check on him." He stretched as he stood up, and scrubbed a hand through his hair as he headed for the stairs.

"Hey Vin - you awake finally?" he called as he got to the upstairs hallway. "Buck's over, Mary saved you some dinner...Vin?" He pushed on the partially open bedroom door - and found the room in chaos. Sheets and blankets were piled on the floor, and Vin stood next to them, clutching the bedspread in front of himself. He was still dressed, barefoot, and his face was a red as if he'd been sunburned.

"I - I - I - just - I -."

In a flash, Chris understood what had happened, and found himself faced with the delicate problem of helping a friend without compromising the dignity of an intensely private man.

"Hang on a second, " he said, sounding as though he only had to go answer the phone. He went to his own room and came back with pajamas and a robe. He held them out to Vin. "Trade you."

Vin still tried to stammer something out, and stared down at the crumple of bedspread twisted in his hands. Finally he shook his head.

"I can't." he whispered.

"You let me take care of this, and you - well, I'll leave these on the sink..." Chris gestured toward the bathroom.

"_Stop it._" Vin hissed. "Just leave me alone. I don't want you here." He wouldn't look up. He was shaking now, and his face had gone even redder. Chris didn't know what to do. Should he leave, should he stay? What could he possibly say? Finally he just walked up to Vin and put his hand on the bedspread. He tugged on it a little, and offered the pajamas and robe one more time. Vin took a deep, shuddering breath.

"Why is this happening to me? What's the matter with me?"

"Vin -." Chris lifted his hand but Vin pulled away.

"_Don't touch me._" His voice dropped. He sounded like he was crying. "Don't touch me. I'm dirty, _don't touch me_." What was there to do? Chris felt his own anguish building, both from the pain Vin was going through in front of him, and the memory of other pain from years before.

_What's wrong with me?_

Before he could talk himself out of it, Chris tossed the pajamas onto the desk behind Vin and pulled him into a hug.

"You're not dirty." he whispered. "And even if you were, you could never be so dirty that I wouldn't touch you." He could feel Vin trembling, but he wasn't crying. "You had a long, hard day. You got shoved into a stone wall. Your painkillers knocked you out, you slept too hard, you probably had a nightmare?" A slight nod told him he'd guessed right. "You haven't eaten in eight hours, now you've got painkiller hangover. There isn't anybody could stand up under all that."

*/*/*/*

Vin went in to take a shower, and Chris took care of the room. He bundled the blankets and sheets to take down to the washer, but he only made it as far as the stairs. He dropped the bundle and sank down. Memories of Stephen overwhelmed him.

_What's the matter with me?_

"Chris?" Buck's voice, so close, startled him. "Everything OK?" He could see Buck looking at him, and at the pile of laundry. Chris stood and picked it up again.

"Yeah, I just – got distracted. Vin's – I just have to –." Chris walked past Buck and headed for the washer, grateful when he didn't hear Buck following him. Stephen felt too close, and Chris felt sick.

*/*/*/*

Mary and Billy had taken Cowboy for his nightly walk. Chris was grinding his teeth and doing laundry. Vin was taking a shower. Buck dropped back into the couch and put his head in his hands. He needed to regroup. Something had spooked Chris, Buck could tell that he was carrying more downstairs than just that armful of bedding. He could also pretty well imagine what had happened to Vin, but right now, Buck considered Chris the priority. He took one more moment to send up a prayer, then stood and walked out to the kitchen.

"So, how's Vin doing?" he tried to sound nonchalant. "Should I throw his plate into the microwave for him?"

"Um, he's – hungover. The painkillers, y'know?" Chris sounded unsure. "I don't know what Nathan's got him on, but I don't think it should be that strong…" He turned on the washer and came into the kitchen. "We should heat up his food, he needs to eat."

"Okay." Buck took the plate out of the fridge and peeled back the Saran Wrap before setting it into the microwave to reheat. "How're _you_ doing?"

"It's too much." Chris said, surprising Buck with his honesty. "Seems like every step he takes is just sending him farther and farther into hell."

Buck was going to remind Chris that he said he'd ask for help when he needed it, but maybe he hadn't realized yet that he needed it.

"And you right along with him Pard…"

"It feels like Steve."

"It's _not_ Steve."

*/*/*/*

Vin could hear Buck and Chris talking about something as he came through the front hallway to the kitchen. He was fully dressed, still wearing Chris' shirt like a jacket. He'd managed to carry his packed duffel bag down the stairs, but now he was dragging it behind him.

"I'm going home."

"Why?" Chris asked.

"I can't stay here. I can't do this to you anymore. I need to be – where nobody has to look out for me."

"Well you might find a place where nobody _has_ to look out for you Vin." Buck said. "But you'll never find a place where nobody _is_ looking out for you."

Vin shook his head.

"Just give me my keys and let me get outta here." But Buck hesitated at handing over the keys. "I can't stay here." Vin repeated when nobody moved.

"I'll get my keys." Chris said. "We'll take my truck." As much as Vin appreciated hearing those words, they grated on the one nerve he seemed to have left.

"I don't want you to go with me."

"Look -." Chris sounded a little annoyed at first, but he lowered his voice. "We already discussed your day from hell. I'm not letting you drive while you still have those painkillers and muscle relaxants in your system. I'm not going to leave you alone overnight when you can barely stand up straight and you can't even carry your own luggage. If it's me you don't want to be around, we can work something out. But I'm not leaving you alone and that's final."

Vin thought about putting up a fight, arguing that he'd be all right on his own, he'd been taking care of himself for half his life now, since his Dad died. But all it came down to was that he didn't want to humiliate himself in front of Chris anymore. It didn't matter that the thought of spending the night alone in his apartment terrified him. It didn't matter that he probably _wouldn't_ be able to carry his gear back up the stairs in his building. He just wanted to be someplace where nobody could see all the pain and terror and shame he was going through.

He must've been taking too long to answer, because Chris set his hands on his hips and gave Vin _that_ look.

"Well?"

And Vin realized that Chris had seen his pain and his terror and his humiliation – and still wanted to look out for him. He dropped the strap of his duffel bag.

"Somebody's gonna have to take that back upstairs for me."

to be continued


	52. Chapter 52

Vin stared down at the plate of food in his lap. He prodded his mind to identify and record what it was before he ate it, but the process felt like a train trying to go uphill.

_Roast beef._ Finally registered. _Potatoes, broccoli, carrots and gravy._ Once the information had been filed appropriately in his memory, he began to eat. He was sitting out on the deck, leaning against the railing. He wanted the air and he wanted the shadows cast by the light shining through the sliding glass doors.

He didn't feel like eating, but his hands were shaking and not from cold, so he figured maybe he ought to eat. His face felt as hot as if he was standing too close to a fire and, even with eating, his mouth was dry and he didn't taste anything. The door slid open behind him and Buck came out. He sat near Vin on the top step, and set a glass of ice tea next to him.

"How're you doing?"

"I wish I was dead."

Instead of chiding him, or expressing dismay, Buck put his hand on Vin's shoulder and gave a squeeze.

"I can understand you feeling that way. I expect it's normal. I'd be worried if everything was hunky dory. How're you feeling other than that? I heard you fell at work."

"Nathan pushed me." Vin said. He felt Buck stiffen, and he looked up into an angry face. "No, not exactly." He added, recognizing Buck's "war path" look. "He was tugging me to go to the clinic, when I pulled away I fell…"

"I'll go with the first answer anyway." Buck told him. "He oughtta know better."

"Hmmph." Vin drank some ice tea. "You're in that frame a'mind, you could start with Rain. She's got as much compassion as an iceberg." He finished all the ice tea in a few more swallows.

"You want me to put the fear of God into them now, or wait until the opportunity presents itself?" Buck was dead serious, Vin could tell. He almost said, _do it now_.

"I still have to see them, s'pose it wouldn't do any good to rile 'em."

"There's other doctors in the world Vin. Remember that. There's other _everything_ in the world." He took the glass from Vin. "You want me to get you some more ice tea?"

"Yeah, thanks." But then he thought about it. "Wait, no. No thanks. I don't want anymore."

Halfway to standing up, Buck sat back down.

"Dehydrating yourself isn't going to help." He said gently.

"Then what the hell is going to help?" Vin demanded. "Because I sure am tired of feeling this way." He didn't mean to snap, but he felt like there was just so much coming at him at once that he couldn't sort it all out.

"Well…" Buck rested his elbows on his knees. "I'd say that first you have to understand _what_ you're feeling, and then _why_ you're feeling it. You have to understand what you can control and don't beat yourself up over what you can't control. Being attacked this way gives you a whole lot more buttons for people to not even know they're pushing. You gotta pay attention, and you gotta remember to cut some people - including yourself - some slack."

Vin paid close attention to what Buck said. It made sense. It seemed to make sense. It made him feel better anyway.

"You sound like you been through this yourself." he said, before he realized what he was implying.

"No." Buck shook his head. He sounded serious, and in no way insulted. "I haven't."

"So - is Chris staying away from me on purpose?" Vin asked, gesturing over his shoulder.

"Naah, first he took your bag back upstairs, then the washer was making a funny noise, now Mary's got him looking at a worry sore on Cowboy's back leg..."

"Life surely does go on..." Vin took another few bites of food.

"Is it Chris you don't want to see?" Buck asked. He still had the empty glass in his hand.

"No. It's _me_ I don't want _Chris_ to see. I can't keep making him -" Vin didn't want to reveal too much, but Buck already knew pretty much everything else. "- take care of me, pick up after me, clean up after me..."

"And just how do you think you're _making_ Chris take care of you?" Buck asked. Vin thought about it, he knew there was a simple answer, if only he could think of it.

"Don't argue with me Buck, I'm too tired."

"Okay." Buck gave Vin's shoulder a light shove with his own. "I'll get you some more tea."

"Okay, thanks..."

Buck went into the house. Vin wasn't surprised when it was who Chris brought the tea back out.

"How're you doing?" Chris asked, echoing Buck's question, and taking his spot on the top step. Vin wouldn't give him the answer he'd given Buck.

"Not hunky dory, in case that was one of my options...thanks..." Vin took the glass and drank some tea. "Buck said Cowboy's got a sore leg?"

"Yeah, for some reason this time of year, he gets to licking his back leg 'til he puts a sore on it. After awhile, he stops. Until next year. We've tried everything, short of putting one of those big stupid collars on him."

"Chris –." Vin wasn't sure how to broach the subject with him, but he wanted Chris' opinion. "You think maybe I need to see somebody? Talk to somebody about – what happened?"

"_No_." Chris' tone left no question. "You don't need to have some overpaid, overeducated, pompous blowhard poking around inside of your brain, telling you things you already know, and making up everything else to suit _her_ agenda. You know what happened, _we_ know what happened. Yeah, it may take awhile to sort through it all, but I'm not going anywhere. Okay?"

"Okay." Vin was actually comforted by Chris' stand. He didn't want to go talk to somebody, and if Chris said he didn't have to, then he didn't have to. "I guess maybe I shouldn't take painkillers and muscle relaxants together anymore."

"I'm only worried that you'll take too many and stop breathing. That's the only thing I'm worried about. Anything else Vin - _anything else_ we can take care of. There's nothing else that can't be cleaned up, straightened up, or put back together. Okay?"

"Okay."

*/*/*/*

Buck sat down at the kitchen table across from Mary. She had a very distressed look on her face.

"You want t'talk about it?" Buck asked. Billy was in the front room, watching "101 Dalmatians".

"He was raped, wasn't he?" Her question caught Buck off guard. He started to answer, decided he shouldn't, then tried to figure out if maybe he should. "It's Chris I'm worried about." She went on. "As long as he has something constructive to do, as long as he's helping Vin or at least feels like he's helping, he'll be okay. But if there ever comes a time when he feels like he isn't helping, or there isn't anything he can do – Buck you remember what happened with Steve. I don't want Chris to go through that again."

"Mary – Vin's okay. I'm mean, he's going through normal trauma with this, but there's still a pattern and a process we can look out for. This isn't like mental illness where everything can be off the map."

"You know how Chris can be."

"I know. It's his way or no way, most of the time. But Mary - Chris is in "protective mode" right now, and right now Vin needs that. When he needs less, he'll let Chris know. It may come to buttin' heads maybe, but that'll be a good thing too. It'll mean Vin is getting his strength back, physical and otherwise." Mary nodded, but he could still see the worry in her face. "And anyway, while Chris is watching Vin's back – you know I'm watching Chris'."

*/*/*/*

Chris sat with Vin a long while. After Vin was done with dinner, and Chris took his plate and glass into the kitchen, they sat in the Adirondack chairs and stared out into the darkness, and didn't say anything. It'd been a long day and if – as Chris suspected might happen – Vin decided he didn't want to go back to bed, it might turn out to be a long night too. Buck had gone home, Mary was watching videos with Billy, and Chris was trying to figure out what to do tomorrow about Vin and work. He didn't want to leave him alone, and he didn't want to put him through another day like today.

"Josiah might be calling later on." Vin said, after awhile. "Thought I might see if he'd want me to come over tomorrow and work on his sink…hell, work on his whole kitchen…it'd give me someplace to be."

"What do _you_ want to do, Vin?"

"I don't know. Work was OK today as long as I was with you. And that's a hell of a way for a grown man to get any work done."

"It's just natural you'd feel safer around a friend." Chris said. Vin gave a laugh.

"Gee, being around Ezra and JD sure didn't make me feel safer." He didn't sound like he was being sarcastic; he was smiling. "And Nathan sure has a way of making a person feel safe that should come with armor…" The food and the sleep must have made him feel better, which Chris was grateful for. "Hate to make you feel like you're stuck with me Chris, that's all. I figure I'd feel safe with Josiah too, and you could get your work done."

"I'm bound to be stuck in a Board Meeting all day tomorrow." Chris said. "Doubt I'll get any work done anyway. If you want, you can stay home tomorrow, get your work emails on our computer. Take care of things that way."

"What do you think I should do?" Vin asked, and Chris thought about it.

"I'd rather you stuck with me."

to be continued


	53. Chapter 53

Josiah did call later, Mary let Vin know, and his body resisted any movement as he tried to stand up without looking like he was completely broken down. He tried to stand up straight, tried not to shuffle, tried to swallow the soft groan of pain as all of his muscles, bones, and joints readjusted to being upright. He tried, but he wasn't exactly successful. He set himself down in the kitchen chair near the phone and took in a deep breath of air before picking up the handset.

"Hey Josiah."

"Hey Vin – how did things go today?"

"Oh, there isn't enough time in the world to accurately describe just how bad today was. I got sick, I fell, I – I – had nightmares. I had to see Ezra and JD, _and_ Judge Travis. It was just an all-around barrel of laughs."

"How did you fall?" Josiah asked. Though Vin took a breath with every intention of answering, nothing came out. After a few moments of silence, Josiah went on. "Are you all right? Did you get hurt when you fell?"

"I – I –." To answer the question honestly would take more words than Vin had the energy for, and he stammered into silence again.

"Is Chris with you now?" Josiah tried. He didn't sound annoyed or impatient.

"He's in the family room."

"Okay, as long as you're in good hands, I'll let you go. Sounds like you had a pretty rough day."

"Josiah?" Vin said it fast, before Josiah had a chance to hang up.

"Yep?"

But then Vin couldn't think of what he wanted to say. Some need or fear or pain or _something_ was welling up inside his chest and it seemed like if he could just tell somebody about it, or maybe if he could get Josiah to realize it without even saying anything, it seemed like it would go away. But he couldn't think what to say.

"Did you want to talk to Chris?" he asked instead.

"If he wants to talk to me."

"Okay, hold on. I'll – hold on." Vin set the receiver down and shuffled his way back into the family room. "Chris? Josiah." Chris definitely looked puzzled.

"He wants to talk to me?"

"I couldn't think of anything to say," Vin admitted. Chris gave a nod of understanding and headed into the kitchen. Mary stood up from the couch, and started to come toward Vin. It made him want to run from the room – she was only going to ask him questions like Josiah that he couldn't answer.

"Hey Vin!" Billy asked. "You wanna watch 'The Ghost and Mr. Chicken' with us?"

"Uh – no. Thanks Billy. Think I'm gonna head back upstairs. Mary." He backed up a few steps until he was in the front hallway, hoping to make a clean getaway to the stairs. But Mary followed him.

"Vin – do you need anything?"

"Nah, I'm all right. Just tired. Thanks." He said it too fast and too stiff to be fooling anybody. "I'm just gonna go lay down. Okay?" He started up the stairs before she could answer. He found his bedroom - _the_ bedroom – neat and tidy and clean. Chris had picked up all the laundry, and remade the bed. Vin stood there and stared at it a good long while before he admitted to himself that he just couldn't lie down on that mattress again. He pulled the chair over and got into the top bunk instead.

*/*/*/*

After a brief conversation with Josiah, Chris went upstairs looking for Vin. Just as he stepped into the doorway of the guest room, Vin asked him, "Leave the light off?"

"Sure." Chris walked over to the bunk beds, he was surprised that Vin was in the top bunk, pressed so far back against the wall that his face was hidden in the shadows, even when he pushed himself up on one elbow. "What are you doing up here?" Chris asked.

"Hiding." They were nearly eye level; on the bunk, Vin was a little higher.

"I cleaned the mattress and flipped it over." Chris felt bad saying it; he didn't want to bring the incident back up to Vin but he thought he ought to tell him.

"I figured you did – I just couldn't do it."

"Just be careful not to fall off the edge if you take another muscle relaxant." Chris tried to sound more casual than concerned. Vin didn't say anything for a long time, and Chris wondered if he was going to swear off painkillers altogether. When Vin finally did say something, it shocked the hell out of Chris.

"_They raped me." _

What could Chris say to that?

"Yes."

"They destroyed my life."

"Vin – only _you_ can destroy your life." Chris stepped closer to the bed and rested his hands on the bed rail. "What happened, what they did to you, the damage they did to your apartment and your pictures and CDs – that's not you, that's not your life." Chris wanted to be comforting and supportive, to give Vin some strength and help him see that he was more than the crime that had been committed against him. "Who you are and what your life is comes from inside you." In the darkness, he couldn't see Vin's face, so he couldn't see what reaction he was getting. Vin turned to lie down on his back.

"Chris – _they_ were inside me," he said. Chris felt sick.

"That's not what I meant."

"It doesn't matter what you meant."

Chris didn't know what to say next. He kept his hands on the bedrail, but bent his head down, hoping – praying – for the right thing to say. So far, it seemed he was doing a lousy job.

"I know what you meant," Vin said after some silence. He didn't move; he lay staring up at the dark ceiling. He sounded weary.

"I didn't think how it was going to sound."

"Well I am glad you don't have a lot of practice with this." Vin turned his head a little to look at Chris. "I think it might hurt worse if you were glib."

"It shouldn't hurt at all."

"But it will. It'll keep hurting until – until I don't know when. I still miss my Dad and I hate to think this is gonna hurt me for that long. I know there's crisis hotlines or whatever, at school or out in the real world but…"

"You don't need to talk to a therapist or counselor or anybody Vin," Chris said.

"I hope not. I tried talking to a counselor at school after Dad died. It was like talking to a damn parrot. I'd say _'I miss my Dad'_ and he'd nod and say _'So you miss your Dad.'_" Vin mimicked an older voice. "And I'd say, _'yeah it's lonely without him'_ and he'd go '_hmm…I see. You're lonely without him._' I tell you, that lasted about twice. I can just see discussing _this_ with an idiot like that. It'd be bad enough having to say it to somebody, I don't want to hear echoed back at me."

"You don't need to talk to anybody," Chris repeated. Vin turned back to stare at the ceiling.

"Good." He took a deep breath. "So, what'd Josiah have to say?"

"He said to take care of you. Call him if you need anything, anytime."

"Yeah... I just hate feeling like this Chris. I feel sick most of the time, or scared, or like somebody must be sneaking up behind me. Worse, if I'm not feeling any of those things, I feel – y'know I haven't even read Maria's letter yet. She's such a sweet kid and whatever she wrote or put in that letter is just to make me feel better and all it'll do is make me feel worse. Make me feel like I don't deserve her wanting me to feel better. That I _shouldn't_ feel better. Alls I feel like now is like I'm carrying a handful of glass and if I don't hang on tight enough I drop it, and if I hang on too tight I cut myself wide open."

"Vin -." Chris chose his words carefully, trying to figure out ahead of time how he could possibly misspeak. "It's OK to drop it. Do you know that? It's okay to drop the whole thing and let the pieces just go where they will. It's better than standing there bleeding, trying to pretend nothing is wrong."

"If I drop it Chris," Vin spoke very precisely. "I'll never get the pieces back together again."

Chris thought a while longer for a reasonable answer.

"The pieces you don't get back are the pieces you don't have in your hand now anyway, Vin."

"Gettin' a might glib there, Chris," Vin said after a few long moments, but Chris could hear a little lightheartedness in his voice. Chris smiled at that.

"I'm just trying to tell you that if you drop it, you drop it. We'll pick it up. I know you said today that everything is falling on you at once, and I know it must feel that way. But – but don't drag today with you into tomorrow. Okay? Let's just pick a fight with each day as it comes. It will get better Vin, time does heal all wounds."

"Hmm." Vin was back to sounding like he wasn't buying it. "If that was true, nobody would ever die of gangrene."

to be continued


	54. Chapter 54

Dawn – and Chris – found Vin asleep on the top bunk in the guest room. He'd kicked his sneakers off, but otherwise was still dressed, with his parents' picture held close even in sleep. Chris didn't walk too far into the room; he didn't want to risk waking Vin. He was surprised actually that Vin had slept so soundly, all night long. The bottle of painkillers was still on the desk where Chris had put it last night, so he didn't think Vin took anymore. He couldn't say about the muscle relaxant though.

Vin was turned onto his side, with his back pressed against the wall. He hadn't pulled any blankets over himself, and he still had Chris's shirt on over his own. Air coming through the window screen kept the room from being too hot, and he seemed to be sleeping peacefully.

For a few moments, Chris stood in the doorway and just watched Vin breathe. At least if he was asleep, nothing was clawing at him. Maybe it was being a parent, and the same kind of relief Chris felt whenever Billy was sick, knowing that as long as he was sleeping quietly he was safe, healing, and in no pain.

This wasn't the Vin that Chris wanted to be watching though. He wanted the Vin that could always find something to laugh at, or the one that would get so sneaky whenever they had a game of football going in the yard. Chris wanted the Vin that always seemed in sync or even one step ahead of what Chris felt or thought or needed.

He wanted the Vin whose life hadn't been destroyed and whose soul hadn't been shredded.

Today, Chris knew, he was in for an all-day meeting with the Board to oust James. He didn't want to bring Vin to work just to leave him by himself, and he couldn't ask him to sit all day in a hard chair and a close room, listening to an endless round-robin of arguments and fabrication.

Chris made a decision, and headed back downstairs to make a phone call.

*/*/*/*

Vin knew as soon as he opened his eyes that morning was nearly over. The room was too hot and the traffic was too noisy to be early morning. He wondered why Chris hadn't gone to work. Maybe that killer headache was back. He eased himself off the top bunk, set his parents' picture on the desk, and went downstairs to find out what was going on.

The house was quiet. Cowboy came to greet him as he crossed the front hall and walked into the kitchen, and he reached out to pat the dog's head. He tried to ask _'where is everybody?'_ but his mouth was too dry. He'd get a glass of water and ask Chris what why they hadn't gone to work. He stopped dead in the kitchen doorway though – Buck sat at the kitchen table, reading the paper. He was alone.

"Is Chris okay?" Vin managed to say around his dry mouth. It was the only thing that mattered to him at the moment. Buck looked up from the paper

"Well, considering he's sitting in the middle of a board meeting right now, I suppose he's okay. How're you doing?"

"He went to work?" Vin asked. Now he was confused. "Why didn't he take me?"

"Because you had a pretty rough day yesterday, and he wanted to spare you that today. Especially if he was going to be locked in that meeting all day." Buck folded the paper and stood up from the table. "Why don't we get some grub into you? It's been awhile since you ate last."

"But -." Vin let his first thought hang there. He didn't want to come right out and say _'I want to be with Chris, I don't want to be with you.'_ That just didn't seem friendly. "Last night Chris said he wanted me to stay with him."

"This morning he wanted you to get more sleep. C'mon and eat some breakfast." Buck urged him. "Later on I'll take you to the campus if you want. Might be he'll get himself sprung early."

"Okay. Let me just go and get washed up." Though he didn't really feel like eating. "I'll be right back."

*/*/*/*

Buck didn't like the way Vin looked. He was too pale and too thin, and even with the bruises under his eyes nearly faded, his eyes were dark with fatigue. He also figured, from Vin's expression and tone of voice, that it wasn't Buck he'd expected – or wanted – to find sitting here. Not that he blamed Vin. You find yourself a security in the midst of chaos, it was hard to let go of it.

Well, if it came to it, Buck would just page Chris to get him out of the meeting. Or send him a text message on his cell phone. If he knew Chris - and he knew Chris - the world could go to hell in its own handcart before he let anything get in the way of tending to Vin.

And if they just happened to wheel that handcart right over Mrs. Stephens' tulip bed, so much the better.

Buck'd just started getting things together to make breakfast when Vin came back into the kitchen.

"I don't want anything." He said, looking at the pan and carton of eggs on the counter top. "I'm not hungry."

He sure didn't sound like he was telling the truth. Buck urged him into one chair, and set himself right in front of Vin in another.

"Is it bad?" he asked. Vin didn't seem surprised that he'd guessed.

"No." Vin shook his head. "It just hurts. Not a lot of blood but it just hurts so bad. I don't want to go to Nathan." He added sharply before Buck even had a chance to suggest it. "You know what he said he'd have to do if it doesn't heal? I'm not going back to Nathan."

"What would he have to do?" Buck kept his voice low. He had the idea that Vin wanted to talk about it.

"I'd have to have surgery." Vin told him. "He said – he said the ring of muscle is so tight…" he looked down and Buck followed his line of sight down to where Vin had curled his forefinger into his thumb in approximation of what he was talking about. "…that it pulls the edges of the laceration apart. He said that if it doesn't heal, I'll have to have surgery to fix it. I don't want to have surgery - _there_. Not _anywhere_. I want this to just be over."

"You don't want to hurt anymore either, do you Vin? You might even be risking infection if it doesn't heal." The same as he had the other morning, Buck reached out to lay his hand on Vin's shoulder. Vin didn't try to shake it off, though he seemed to duck a little lower into himself.

"Rain wanted to give me some cortisone cream," Vin said. "To try and make it heal, but – it had an applicator. You know?" He looked at Buck. His face had gone dark red. "A plunger kind of applicator that you fill up with the cream and then – then – I couldn't do that. How the hell could she even think that I'd – after what happened? That's just not right."

"She just wants you to get better." Buck tried. From what Chris had told him though, Rain was not on Buck's "A" list just now.

"No, she wants me to _be_ better. It happened, it's over, end of story. She could've at least given me as long as it's taking for the bruises to heal."

"Vin…" But Buck wasn't sure what he had in mind to say next. "For right now, we'll just agree that Rain lives on another planet. Okay? _I_ don't expect you to be '_be'_ better, neither does Chris. But we do want you to _get_ better. If it comes to surgery –." He saw the hard look Vin gave him. "It'll be your decision, but whatever you decide, me and Chris'll be right here. Will that do for you, for right now? We can't take the physical pain away from you, but anytime you need to talk, or just have somebody nearby – we can do _that_ for you."

Vin shook his head at first, and Buck wondered what he might be disagreeing with. He watched Vin's face though and saw him almost smile.

"I just can't see Chris comfortably sitting though a discussion of blood, lacerations, and why I intend to be on a liquid diet the rest of my life. But yeah, I know what you mean."

He took a deep breath and sat a little straighter.

"I just want this to stop being the only thing that ever happened to me. I want it to stop taking up so much room in my brain."

"That'll happen Vin. Count on it. Even just before when you walked into the kitchen, the first thing you asked about was Chris. It'll be slow maybe, but it'll happen." Buck said. Vin nodded. "Okay, so how about I make you a milkshake for breakfast? It won't be The Larabee Lush, but they don't call it the Wilmington Wonder for nothing."

"The Wilmington Wonder?" Vin gave him a skeptical look, but shrugged. "Sure – I'm willing to risk it." Buck gave his shoulder a pat before standing and going to the refrigerator for the ingredients.

"What do want to do after breakfast?" he asked Vin. "I'm free the whole day, and the weather's great. Be a shame to waste it."

"I think…" Vin said it as though he was making up his mind even as he spoke. "…that I'd like to go to my apartment."

to be continued


	55. Chapter 55

The latest board meeting was such a bust that the assembled members couldn't even decide what to do for lunch. First, they voted to order in, but then they couldn't agree on what to order, or where to order it from. Then they decided to adjourn and get lunch on their own, but couldn't agree how long they should take. A few voted to work through lunch and cut the meeting short. Chris voted that they can James' sorry self right then and there and never have another meeting about it again.

Once the stunned silence that followed his outburst had passed, the board members quietly filed out of the office to disparate luncheon arrangements, leaving Chris and Ezra alone at the conference table.

Sitting side by side again, neither man said anything. Ezra pulled a prescription bottle of painkillers from the pocket of his suit coat, but his bottle of water was empty. Chris pushed his spare bottle of water over and Ezra took it with a silent acknowledgement. Once he had taken his own dose, he pushed the water and the painkillers in front of Chris, who accepted both silently but gratefully. Soon, both men were dosed and waiting for the painkillers to kick in.

"I believe I may safely say that this has been one of the most unproductive successions of days that I have spent in quite some time." Ezra finally said. "Never have so many done so little yet produced so much bullshit."

Chris was surprised to hear such a word out of Ezra. He lifted his head from where he'd been resting it on the back of his chair.

"Getting on your nerves, are they?" he asked.

Ezra barely restrained an infuriated obscenity as he began to gather his papers and notes into his briefcase.

"These people are without question the most pompous, ludicrous, fatuous, gaseous, obsequious gathering of numbskulls with whom I have ever had the misfortune to be acquainted." Ezra was truly angry. "While they sit here and prattle on and on in an asinine attempt to circumvent what we all know to be the inevitable resolution of this current maelstrom, they seem to forget that outside this rarefied atmosphere and these ivy-covered halls real life continues in a manner both mundane and egregious. While they agonize over the placement of every dot and semicolon in a legal document that isn't worth the ink it will take to print, these ignoramuses remain blissfully unaware of the everyday struggle that exists outside their blinkered field of vision. I hope to God they may one day soon be visited upon by the consequences of their own thoughtlessness and may I not eat again until I am able to feast upon their withered entrails."

That finished Ezra's tirade and Chris stared at him awhile, with no particular expression on his face. After a moment or two though he said,

"Vin's OK Ezra. He had a good night's sleep, and Buck was with him when I left for work this morning."

At first it seemed that Ezra would stammer out some hasty disavowal of any such sentiment. Then he nodded.

"I'm glad."

*/*/*/*

Buck walked up the stairs to Vin's apartment casually, quite opposite of how he felt bringing Vin back here. It might've been different if Vin didn't seem so much on edge, but the look on his face, and the tighter his muscles seem to draw the closer they got to the door, made Buck think this was going to turn out to be a very very bad idea.

As they crossed the landing, he pulled Vin's keys out of his pocket and handed them over.

"Here you go," still trying to act and sound casual. Vin looked at the keys as though he wasn't sure at first what he was supposed to do with them.

"Oh, thanks. Yeah." He picked through the keys and separated the ones for his front door – the regular one, and the new one for the deadbolt. Buck stayed close behind him as he unlocked the door and opened it. Another envelope lay at their feet, and Buck reached down for it.

"Little Maria again." He said. "She really wants you to feel better."

"I haven't even opened the first one yet." Vin admitted. "I don't think I could take all that sweetness and innocence just yet."

"I'll hang onto this for you then." Buck said, and slid it into his shirt pocket, and they walked farther into the apartment. Vin shut the front door behind them.

"The place really smells of that vinyl shower curtain doesn't?"

"Yeah, it does." Buck answered. "That'll go away after awhile."

"Yeah."

Vin looked around his apartment; he didn't seem to know where to go or what to do. Just as soon as his feet seemed headed in one direction, his body went in another, so that after several moments had passed, he really hadn't moved off the same spot.

"What'd you have in mind here?" Buck asked.

"Nothing." Vin sounded a little snappish. "I just wanted to be at my house, I don't have to have anything specific in mind do I?"

Buck wasn't bothered by Vin's sudden temper.

"I just wondered, if you wanted to be alone for a little while, I could take myself a walk."

"NO!" Vin's sudden temper was replaced with sudden panic. "Don't leave me alone."

"I won't, don't worry." Buck assured him. "You're calling the shots here. Just let me know anything you want me to do."

Vin looked around the apartment again. He seemed lost.

"I don't know. I don't know what I want to do. Is there something I _should_ be doing?"

"Well…" Buck took a few steps beyond Vin into the front room. "Last night, and the night before, when I came over to pick up your mail, I just went through the rooms, made sure everything looked okay, and I checked your caller-ID." He waited a few beats, but Vin didn't say anything. "We could do that now if you want."

"This doesn't even feel like my home anymore. Everything just seems so – unfamiliar."

"I'll tell you what we'll do then." Buck was trying to let Vin make some decisions on his own, but it just wasn't happening. "I'll make us up some lemonade, or ice tea, or anything cold you've got to drink. You open some windows and get the fans going in this place, and then we'll just sit for a while and maybe you'll feel a little more comfortable here. How's that?"

Vin nodded, but he was staring at the half closed bathroom door. Buck moved in between.

"If you think about it, you'll make yourself sick, Vin." He said. "Let's try to get you thinking about something else. Okay?"

"Yeah." Vin nodded a little more strongly than he needed to. "Yeah, we'll do that. That'll work." He moved stiffly away from Buck and went to open his front windows and turn on his fan.

He glanced down at the sidewalk and saw Nettie looking back up at him.

*/*/*/*

Coming home from the neighborhood bakery, Nettie saw Buck's truck in Vin's parking lot. She looked up to his apartment windows and saw Vin standing there. He'd apparently just pulled the sash open. She froze, and he seemed to freeze there, staring at each other. Neither one smiled, neither one waved, neither one acknowledged the other at all, except for their hard stares.

Finally Vin took one or two steps backward, away from the window but still in view. Nettie dropped her eyes and went home.

to be continued


	56. Chapter 56

Vin watched Nettie disappear down the sidewalk. It hurt more than he wanted it to, to see her walk away and not show one bit of concern. Well, if she didn't care about him then he wouldn't waste one more minute caring about her. She could get JD to mow her lawn from now on, and take out her trash, and prop up that rotting timber in her shed. If that was how she was going to be about it, he'd be just the same. He'd show her just how much he didn't care.

He walked a little closer to the window to try and catch one last glimpse of her.

Buck came up behind him, and offered Vin a glass of lemonade. "What're you looking at?"

"Why does Nettie hate me?" Vin blurted. "Why does what happened to me make her hate me?"

"She doesn't hate you Vin."

"She does. She just walked past and didn't even come in. She saw me up here and she didn't wave or – or – anything. She just kept going." He wanted an instant, cure-all answer from Buck. One that made sense of everything and dispelled all his distress.

"I don't know why she's acting the way she is, Vin. After Chris, she's the first one I thought would be right here by your side."

"She hates me."

"No, she doesn't." Buck said again. "I can't prove it, but I know she doesn't."

Vin turned away from the window, heading for the sofa, and finally took the offered glass of lemonade. "I never knew why she liked me to start with anyway." He said. He knew it was tremendously self-pitying, but he added: "I never knew why any of you liked me."

He dropped himself into the cushions and told Buck, "You don't have to answer that, you know. I'm just feeling sorry for myself."

"And for good reason." Buck got his own lemonade and sat in the recliner. "A _lot_ of good reasons."

"You still like me." Vin said. It wasn't a question, but there was a hesitant tone to it. He took a swallow of lemonade. "You don't have to answer that either."

"Vin, you have been through a hell of a lot of hell in the past few days, I'm sure not going to blame you for a little self-pity, or even a lot of it. It isn't all bones on you that got broken, a lot of things still have to knit themselves back together."

"Yeah…" Vin said, and he looked toward the window again.

*/*/*/*

Nettie felt her heart pound as she unlocked her front door. Vin was so close – not even half a block away and up a flight of stairs from where she stood right now. Less than a week ago, if she'd seen that Vin was home from work in the middle of the afternoon, she would've been up those stairs in a heartbeat to find out what was wrong.

Of course, less than a week ago, if Vin had seen her from his window, he would've at least smiled and waved at her.

Today, she already knew what was wrong. What she _didn't_ know was if she would've returned any greeting.

She walked to the kitchen and set her bag on the table. She'd bought some rye bread and a lemon coffee cake at the bakery. Whenever she offered Vin a slice of fresh bread, he always took the heel because 'you get more bread that way'. How many afternoons had they sat in her upholstered rocking chairs in the dining room, drinking tea, eating bread and butter, and just talking?

That boy loved to talk; Nettie thought his friends would be surprised to find out just how much. He was surprisingly open about his past, losing his parents, living for a few years with his aunt, then being on his own. But he also loved to talk about music, and books, and what was going on at work. She figured out pretty fast that all she had to do was ask Vin a question and show a genuine interest in his answer, and an hour could go by before he exhausted the topic.

When Casey first told Nettie that a friend of JD's was moving into the neighborhood, she'd expected someone younger, someone more like JD. Vin and JD were close in age she knew, but Vin had an older air about him, the thoughtful steps and measured actions of someone who'd had too much experience with needing to think things through.

They first met in January, here it was only August and it was though Vin had been part of her life forever. Now she realized that if she didn't do something soon, he'd be _out_ of her life forever.

*/*/*/*

Vin didn't like the way his hand shook as he attempted to check his caller ID box. He couldn't get rid of the idea that _they_ might've touched it, and if he touched it, he would be dirty all over again. He almost hit the review button, then pulled his hand back and scrubbed it on Chris' shirt.

"You okay?" Buck asked. He walked over to Vin.

"What if _they_ touched it?"

"What if they did?" Buck wasn't being sarcastic; he was really asking the question.

"You said you dusted for fingerprints – you know what they touched and what they didn't touch."

"Your prints are all over this place too." Buck said it gently. "I don't know for sure who touched what, but we did a pretty thorough job of cleaning when we were here Sunday. You know Chris – he even cleaned the buttons on your TV."

That should've made Vin feel better, but it didn't. He bunched the front tail of Chris' shirt in his hands and turned away. All the places his friends had cleaned meant all the places his attackers had touched.

_His_ attackers.

Great. Now they belonged to him.

"Buck? Is there more lemonade or anything? Just something – I'm not feeling too good right now…"

"Yeah, 'course there is. Come and take a seat." Buck touched Vin's shoulder to urge him toward the couch. "Are you gonna be sick?"

"No. I don't think so anyway. Sometimes I don't know until it's too late though."

"Well you rest a minute and try to think good thoughts. I'll get you some cold water to drink."

"Okay, thanks." Vin sat on the edge of the couch, and leaned forward to rest his head in his hands. Good thoughts, he was supposed to think good thoughts. There was nothing good to think about except that Buck was with him, and even that wasn't as good as if Chris was with him instead.

Maybe he should take some aspirin, maybe he was getting a headache too.

He asked Buck to bring him some and managed to swallow them down with the water without gagging.

A knock on his door put them both on alert, and Buck went to answer it. "Who is it?" he asked through the closed door.

"Buck? It's Nettie."

The glass of water almost dropped out of Vin's hands. He looked up at Buck, who was looking back at him.

"You want to see her?"

"I – I – I don't know. I guess so. I don't know?" If Vin felt sick before, he felt ten times worse now.

"You could just see what she has to say." Buck offered.

"Yeah – okay." Vin stood up and moved to be closer to Buck, in case of what he didn't know, but it made him feel safer. Buck turned the locks and opened the door for Nettie. She stayed on the threshold and didn't come in. She looked first at Buck, then at Vin.

"I came to see how you're doing, Vin." She said. Her tone was stiff; she sounded unsure.

"Still alive I guess." Vin said. It seemed the best answer at the moment. For some reason he couldn't figure, Nettie shot Buck a dirty look.

"I know you're alive – I just wanted to see if – if you needed anything, or if there was anything I could do." Her tone wasn't too inviting or friendly, and Vin got a sudden urge to not make this easy for her.

"What'd you have in mind?" The question seemed to take Nettie by surprise.

"Well – I don't know."

"Maybe you could start with an apology." Buck said. Now Nettie gave him a _really_ dirty look.

"Maybe you could let me talk to Vin." She snapped back.

Vin knew absolutely that Buck wouldn't leave him, still he found himself echoing Chris' words from yesterday. _"He stays or I don't."_ He couldn't believe he was talking to Nettie that way. She'd been nicer to him and done more things unasked for him than he would ever deserve or could ever reciprocate. But right now, feeling sick and getting sicker, Vin just didn't have the desire or energy to be polite.

"I just wanted to see how you were doing." Nettie said again, even more stiffly.

"So you saw. Anything else?"

One last time Nettie looked from Vin to Buck, then back again. "No, I suppose not."

"Good." And Vin walked away from her.

to be continued


	57. Chapter 57

Vin went into his bedroom and shut the door, and Buck felt like repeating the gesture to Nettie's face. But before he could do that she asked, "_Is he all right? He looks so pale."_ And Buck realized that he actually felt sorry for her, they way she was standing there with such a stricken look on her face. Even though he figured she deserved it and had brought it on herself, Buck gave her credit for trying, even if the trying had been strained at best.

"Well why in the blazes didn't you ask him that yourself when you had the chance and he was standing not a foot away from you?"

"Because I didn't – he didn't -." She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Because until I saw him standing there, I didn't realize just how much I might be throwing away. I love that boy like he was my own Buck, and look how bad I've hurt him."

"Give him time then, and don't give up." He told her. She nodded that she heard, but didn't take her eyes from where Vin had gone into his bedroom. "He'll push you away until he hears what he needs to hear from you Miss Nettie. And it's going to take the two of you to figure out what that is."

Nettie shook her head. "He hates me." And Buck laughed out loud.

"No Miss Nettie. I can guarantee you – Vin does _not_ hate you."

*/*/*/*

Vin didn't want to hear what was happening at his front door. He turned on his radio to block the sounds of Nettie being angry or disparaging or fed up. She'd say something mean and Buck would answer her back, and there'd be a battle of angry words and the only result would be that Vin would feel worse, and the gulf between him and Nettie would grow wider and deeper, until finally they'd never be able to cross it at all.

Maybe he even really would need to find a new apartment, just so he didn't risk running into her in the neighborhood. He'd have to be careful around JD and Casey too, well except that Vin figured he'd be avoiding JD now anyway. Maybe he should just move to a new city and get a new job and a new life. It wasn't like anybody would miss him. Probably they'd be glad he was gone.

He turned toward his dresser and saw his reflection in the mirror, saw himself standing there wearing Chris' shirt over his own. Well, one or two people might miss him if he was to just up and disappear. There was probably a couple of people he'd miss too. He set himself down on the bed and tried to ride out the crushing feeling of doom that was surrounding him.

It wasn't real he tried to tell himself. The doom wasn't real, the world wasn't about to explode over him. It was a difference of opinion, that's all. That's what it came down to between him and Nettie, and Ezra, and JD. Just a difference of opinion.

A difference of opinion that meant the end of life as he knew it.

No, that was stupid. They'd get over it Vin tried to convince himself. They'd all get over it, make peace, make friends again. They'd had disagreements before, hadn't they?

Trying to control his contrasting emotions made Vin desperate. The bad feelings weren't making sense, and what seemed good seemed improbable. He had friends – but he'd lost friends before. He could lose them again.

But Chris and Buck and Josiah were still with him.

But it was only a few days since he'd been attacked – they could still get sick of him needing so much help.

But he didn't need that much help, did he?

But there was no saying how much was too much to some people.

But – but – but…

His thoughts started spinning in circles and Vin pressed his hands over his ears, as though that would stop the chaos stampeding through his brain. He had friends, he had Chris, he had a home and a job and a truck and everything would be all right if he could just get himself to believe that everything would be all right, and he'd believe that everything would be all right if everything would just _be_ all right and as long as he wasn't alone he was okay and as long as he was okay he wouldn't be alone and Lord when was all this noise and pain and madness going to leave him be?

"Vin?" Buck had come into the room, and he was crouched next to Vin. "It's okay Vin – Nettie's gone home."

"I wish I was dead." He lowered his hands to grip the front tail of Chris' shirt. "Nothing is making sense, I can't stop thinking about how bad everything is and how messed up everything is. Everything just keeps spinning around and spinning around and it won't stop and I can't make it stop."

"All right Vin, all right." Buck put his hands over Vin's. "This is okay, this is normal."

"_Normal to want to be dead?" _

"It's normal to want to escape pain. It's normal for things not to make sense. It's normal to hate yourself and hate everybody around you. _But it won't last, Vin._ You just gotta keep reminding yourself of that."

"I don't hate you."

"Well I'm glad of that." Buck sat on the bed next to him and Vin didn't move. He needed the security – he _wanted_ the shelter – of a friend sitting with him.

"What did Nettie say? How mad is she?"

"Oh she's real mad." Buck said. "_At herself_. She hurt you without even trying and now she doesn't have a clue how to make it better."

"She can't make it better. Nothing will make it better."

"I know it feels like that right now, but it won't always feel like that. And you know Vin, if it comes to it, you can always talk to somebody, a counselor, a -."

"Chris said I don't need to talk to anybody." Vin interrupted.

"Him being the center of all wisdom in the universe." Buck said. Vin only repeated,

"He said I don't need to talk to anybody. I don't want to talk to anybody. They never did me any good before and they won't do me any good now. I don't want to talk to anybody."

"Okay. That's okay. You don't have to do anything you don't want to." Instead of being angry, Buck sounded encouraging.

"I can talk to you, can't I Buck? You've been good so far, you haven't – nothing's been too gross to tell you so far. I can talk to you, can't I?"

"You bet you can Vin." Buck gave his shoulder a gentle bump. "Anywhere, anytime, about anything. You bet you can talk to me."

*/*/*/*

"How is he?" Chris asked Buck as soon as he walked into the house, before he'd even shut the front door behind himself. "How'd the day go?"

"He's okay, he's out on the deck. Been out there most of the day. We went over to his apartment about noon, came home, and he's been out in the chair since then."

"Is he sleeping?"

"Off and on a little." Buck told him. "We've just been sitting out there, admiring the view. He hasn't been up much to talking, or anything else."

Chris started to walk to the sliding glass doors.

"Something happen at his apartment?"

"Nettie stopped by. Neither of them knew what to say to the other, and what did get said sure wasn't helpful."

Chris shook his head. "Just what Vin needed. But he's okay?"

"He's as okay as he can be. He's got so much rushing at him from so many directions he can hardly see straight." Buck motioned toward the deck. "He hasn't said so, but I think he's been waiting all day for you to get home."

"Thanks, Buck." Chris went through the open doorway onto the deck. Vin was settled into an Adirondack chair, with pillows under his knee and behind his back, and one tucked in at his shoulder that he rested his head on. His eyes were closed, so Chris didn't disturb him. As he turned toward the other chair though, Vin opened his eyes and looked over at him.

"Hey." He sounded tired. "How'd things go at work? What happened at the Board meeting?"

"You would not believe it." Chris said as he dropped himself into the other chair. "We spent all day in that meeting, and the best we could accomplish was to agree that we should look into having a policy against substance abuse. But then we couldn't agree if that meant only on campus, or if it could extend to people's lives off campus. It was a total waste. Just a total waste of time, energy and oxygen." He rubbed his eyes and took a deep breath. "How was your day?"

"Tolerable…Buck took care of me. I indulged in a little 'substance abuse' of my own." Vin shook the shirt pocket that held his bottle of painkillers.

"I might just bum a couple of your muscle relaxants before the next Board meeting. I bet that'd make the day go just a little more pleasantly." Chris repositioned himself in the chair to get more comfortable before he closed his own eyes. "Oh yeah, I meant to tell you – Ezra asked how you were doing."

to be continued


	58. Chapter 58

Dinner.

Great.

Just what Vin didn't want to be doing anymore.

He stood behind his chair at the table as everyone else filed into the kitchen, and he tried to think of some way to get out of having to eat without having to say why. He wondered if he really did feel nauseous, or if he was only willing himself to feel that way.

His unease began to swell into panic when Mary smiled at him and said, "I hope you're hungry Vin – I made ham and cabbage, that's one of your favorites isn't it?"

All he could do was stare at her, trying to say '_yes'_, but needing to say '_no'_. He shook his head.

"No – I – I'm not hungry. Honest. I just want –." He looked to Buck for any kind of help. "If I could just – I'm sorry Mary."

Then he fled the kitchen for the back deck.

*/*/*/*

Chris was feeling better about things as he went into the kitchen for dinner. Vin seemed to be doing okay, despite his encounter with Nettie. He was rested, and Buck had assured Chris that Vin had eaten during the day. Now, they were going to have dinner. As long as Vin kept eating and sleeping, he'd keep healing. As long as he kept healing, everything else would turn out okay too.

So Chris was feeling better about things.

Until Vin all but ran out of the kitchen, looking like he would be sick any second.

"What was that all about?" Chris asked Buck; he hadn't missed the look Vin had given Buck.

"I'll tell you later." Buck said. He started to head out of the kitchen, no doubt going to Vin, and Chris followed him.

"No – you'll tell me _now_."

"Chris – now wouldn't be a very good time."

"The hell it wouldn't." he grabbed Buck's arm to stop him. "Is Vin all right? What's going on?"

Chris waited – not patiently – the few seconds he could see it was taking Buck to assess the information he had, where they were standing, and who might overhear. When he finally spoke, he kept his voice low.

"He just doesn't want to eat anything Chris, he doesn't want to eat anything solid. He's been having – problems – and he's trying to avoid that."

"Problems? What kind of problems? Does he need to go back to Nathan? Is he sick?" and Buck gave him a look like he was an idiot.

"Think about it Chris. The man doesn't want to eat."

"Yeah…" Chris thought about it. He _thought_ he was thinking about it. Vin wasn't eating. Maybe the painkillers were making him nauseous, or maybe he hit his head yesterday at the shrine and that was doing it. He didn't sound like he was getting a sore throat, and he hadn't mentioned a toothache…

A pointed sigh from Buck told Chris that his obvious confusion was exasperating.

"Chris –." And Buck dropped his voice even more. "When they raped him, they tore him. He's been bleeding and he's in pain. He's afraid that if he eats and has to use the bathroom, it'll just make it worse. Do you understand now?"

That last was asked kindly, but it only made Chris feel worse for how blind and stupid he was. Well _duhhh_ Vin wouldn't want to eat.

"You said he ate today– what'd he eat?"

"I made him milkshakes. That's all I could get him to take."

"Okay." Chris said. "Do me a favor? Make a couple more?"

*/*/*/*

_Breathe. Just breathe. Just keep breathing. Breathe, breathe, breathe._

Vin sat on the top step of the deck, resting his head in his hands, shielding his eyes with his fingers. How much longer was this going to go on? Each time it seemed he cleared some physical or emotional obstacle, one more stood up to take its place. If he could just remember to keep breathing, maybe he wouldn't be sick this time.

He missed Nettie. At least how Nettie used to be. He couldn't help thinking about that one day – it was the maybe the fifth time he'd gone to her house for supper. He didn't feel good, and he didn't want to be impolite and not eat what she offered. But he also didn't want to be impolite and get sick at her dinner table. So he decided to make his excuses and leave.

But he'd no sooner said he didn't feel good and she had him dosed with Tylenol, sitting in one of the upholstered rocking chairs in her dining room, with a wool blanket over his legs, and waiting the results of the thermometer under his tongue.

There'd been no question of her giving the help – and there'd sure been no question of him _taking_ it. She fussed and dosed and felt his forehead like she'd been taking care of him his whole life. When the thermometer registered the slightest fever at 99.8, she'd settled him even more into that rocker with the blanket pulled up under his arms, a strong cup of Echinacea and honey tea, and the firm admonition that he wasn't going anywhere until that medication had a chance to work.

Now, he didn't feel good again and Nettie might as well be a million miles away for as close as she'd probably ever let him near her again. Especially after how he acted towards her today. He'd never see the inside of her house again, never sit and drink tea and just talk with her.

Well, it'd always been too good to last, hadn't it? He should just remember when things were still good, and Nettie still cared, and maybe just hang onto that for when things got really bad again in the future. If that was all he had left, he'd make do with it.

In the meantime, he just had to remember to breathe.

*/*/*/*

Chris brought out two huge chocolate milkshakes in plastic glasses out to the deck. He handed one to Vin, then sat down next to him.

"Turns out I'm clueless." He said to the puzzled look Vin was giving him. Then Vin nodded.

"Turns out I'm not surprised." He managed one small smile. "Buck told you, hunh?" Now Chris nodded.

"And you know I gave him a choice."

"Yeah. Some choice - _talk or die_.." Vin gestured to the glass in his hand, and the one Chris held. "Thanks."

"Well, it sounded good. I asked Buck to make me one while he was at it."

"What's he telling Mary?"

"That you don't feel good, and this is all you've been able to keep down all day, and that he's glad there's more for him…" He wouldn't tell Vin that he was pretty sure Mary knew what had happened. "If you're going to go on drinking instead of eating, we'll have to get you something more nutritious than ice cream."

"This'll do me for now. I just don't want to go back to Nathan. Or any doctor. I just want to give – things – a chance to – take care of themselves."

"I don't blame you." He tapped Vin's glass with his own and they both took sips of their milkshakes.

"So – you said Ezra was asking about me?" Vin asked, as he wiped away his chocolate mustache.

"Yeah – he seemed pretty worried too."

"He did?" Vin was obviously surprised. "What'd he say?"

"He said the Board members have gas and all they've managed to produce is bullshit."

That finally put a genuine, if slightly perplexed, smile on Vin's face. "Ezra couldn't talk a straight line with a ruler, could he?" he asked.

"No, I don't think he could." Chris agreed. "I think he's worried and he doesn't want to be, so he's pretending he's not."

"That doesn't leave us in a much different place then, seems like." Vin took another sip of his milkshake. "Did he say it straight to their face?"

"No, it was just him and me in there when he said it."

"Well, all right then. When he says it right to the Judge, I'll believe he's worried."

to be continued


	59. Chapter 59

The two envelopes weighed heavier in Vin's hands than even _their_ bulk called for. He knew there'd be nothing but sweetness and light inside, and probably more innocent affection than he'd be able to read without breaking down. His heart and his soul - not to mention his aching body - wouldn't be able to stand that. He knew he should read them, and thank Maria for caring enough to send them, but he couldn't. Not yet.

Sitting on the bottom bunk in the guest room, he pulled open an empty drawer in the desk and slipped the letters inside. Once he'd pushed the drawer shut again, he exhaled a shaky breath and closed his eyes. This was all too much to deal with at once. It was too much to deal with over an entire lifetime.

He'd come up stairs to change his long-sleeve shirt for a t-shirt. The weather was picking up hot again, and instead of just taking off Chris' shirt and having done with it, he was going to put on a t-shirt and keep Chris' shirt on over it. He might as well get that done with and head back downstairs where Buck and Chris were waiting for him on the deck to take Cowboy for his walk. Maybe the air and the exercise would make him tired enough that he'd fall asleep as soon as he laid down.

Or maybe he could just dose himself into oblivion again with painkillers and muscle relaxants and not have to worry about anything for the next twelve hours. Well, he'd have to worry about Chris probably checking on him every twenty minutes to make sure he was still breathing. And he might have to worry about getting another nightmare. He didn't want to have to go through _that_ again.

He stood up from the bed and pulled a t-shirt from the pile of his laundry at the foot of the bed. The sooner he got to walking, the sooner he'd get tired, the sooner he could sleep, and the sooner one more horrific day would be over.

Lord, he could hardly wait to see what tomorrow would be like.

*/*/*/*

Mary walked upstairs. Her stated intention was to change her shoes since she wouldn't be taking Cowboy for his walk. Her real mission was to check on Vin. She had no idea what she might say to him, but she could see he was suffering and she couldn't leave him there without trying to help.

She passed his room on her way to her own. He'd left the door open a crack and she glanced inside. He was changing his shirt and had his back to her. As he pulled the t-shirt on over his head, she saw the assorted bruises and gouges plain across his back and down his side.

Vin hadn't noticed her, and she didn't want him to catch her staring, so she kept going and walked into her bedroom. But she had to grab hold of the door to keep her balance she felt so sick. She knew Vin was trying his hardest to make things seem as normal as possible, which meant he was hiding as many things as possible - from his friends, but from maybe from himself as well.

Stephen had had those kinds of secrets too. Maybe not for the same reasons, but with the same results - feeling like he had to put up a brave front to the world, while inside storms raged. Those were deadly secrets. Soon it would be five years since she found out just how deadly they could be.

When she felt steady enough, she let go of the door and sat in the chair. Instead of changing her shoes, she reached for the small picture of Stephen she kept on top of her dresser, and she sat staring at that for a while.

*/*/*/*

Vin's legs ached, his ribs ached, his back ached, and his scratches pulled. All from just trying to put on a t-shirt. Never mind going for a walk to tire himself out - just standing up straight was exhausting.

He heard somebody walking down the bedroom hallway. It had to be Mary, from the footsteps. He felt bad for wasting her supper, and he thought he should take the chance to apologize to her for that at least.

Her bedroom door was open, so he went down there. He found her sitting in the armchair, looking at a small, framed photograph.

"Mary?" he tapped on the door to get her attention. "Can I talk to you a second?"

"Sure." She said it too fast, like she'd been caught out at something. She turned away from Vin to set the picture frame up on her dresser, and as she did that, he saw her wipe her hand under her eyes. Seemed like she was crying, but she turned a perfectly composed face back to him. "How are you? Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm okay." He took a glance between her and the photograph; he didn't recognize the man in the picture. "I'm sorry about supper though. I'm sorry you went to all that trouble. I really like your ham and cabbage. I just don't want to eat anything - anything -." He stammered over the end of that sentence, realizing almost too late what he was about to say.

"I fell once when I was little, I cracked my head on the kitchen floor and gave myself a concussion." Mary said. "I remember not wanting to eat anything for the longest time too, I felt so queasy." She stood up from her chair and gave Vin a strong hug, so strong it took him by surprise.

"Anything you need, you let me know. Anything you want to eat, anything you think you can eat, anything at all Vin, you let me know." Her voice sounded strange, like she was back to near crying again.

"Oh, well - thanks Mary. I will." He put his arms around her, slowly, as though she might bolt at the touch. He'd never hugged her before. She'd never actually hugged him either, just one-arm-in-passing kind of hugs. Heck, nobody but Nettie had ever hugged him before, and after being attacked, he swore he'd never let anybody touch him again. Now he was getting hugs from all sides.

The sound of someone clearing their throat made Vin turn a little toward the bedroom door. Chris stood there, with his arms crossed, and one eyebrow arched in consternation.

"You mind telling me how come every time I turn my back, one of you fellas is hugging my wife?" he asked. Vin felt Mary start to break off the hug, and of their own volition, his arms tightened around her a little more before he let her go.

"Well hell Chris." He said. "If _you_ don't know why, I'm sure not about to tell you."

*/*/*/*

"Is Mary OK?" Vin asked Chris, as they walked Cowboy down the road. They walked more or less three abreast, with Buck on the outside. The sun was only just setting, with enough daylight left that they didn't need a flashlight.

"You tell me, you were the one hugging her." Chris said, with a mock scowl. Vin ignored the baiting.

"No, something seemed wrong. She was looking at a picture of some guy, I thought maybe she was crying."

"Who was it a picture of?" Buck asked

"I didn't recognize him. Blond hair, kind of long. He had a beard and a mustache?"

"Oh." Was all Chris said. He didn't sound happy. Even Buck seemed to falter a step, and he shot a look at Chris.

" 'Oh' - what?" Vin asked.

Chris seemed to startle out of a bad memory. "It's nobody." He let Cowboy drag him away and when Vin thought it was safe, he turned to Buck.

"I miss something?" he asked, and Buck seemed like he was having trouble coming up with an answer.

"That's Stephen." He said. "Mary's brother. He died five years ago."

Vin remembered Billy saying something about an uncle Stephen.

"Mary never mentioned she had a brother."

"Yeah well, Chris doesn't like talking about him much. He was like a kid brother to Chris, and when he died - well...Chris didn't handle it too well. It's still pretty hard on him."

"Oh." Vin watched the ground for a while as they walked along. Chris kept his distance away from them. "I can understand. My Dad died, I don't talk about him much I guess. He never talked much about my Mom either. I guess I can understand." He looked over at Chris. After a moment or two, he turned his steps to walk beside Chris. Neither one said anything, Vin wasn't sure what he _could_ say.

He found himself wondering what it felt like to be somebody's kid brother, to be _Chris'_ kid brother. Growing up an only child, and only having cousins who were way younger than he was, Vin thought it'd be nice to be somebody's kid brother. He wondered if Chris would ever feel that way about him.

"We'll head back." Chris said to Vin. He sounded fine now. "It's still too hot and you're going to wear yourself out."

"Well, if you think so." Vin said.

"I don't _think_ so." Chris told him. "I _know_ so."

to be continued


	60. Chapter 60

Nettie felt sick. Something was lost between her and Vin. He was gone from her for good; she'd ruined it for sure. How could she make it any better? She wanted to drive right over to Chris' house and demand that he talk to her and listen to her, and make him understand. She wanted things right between the two of them again. She couldn't talk to anybody about it – she didn't want to go spreading his business among people who hardly knew him. And she didn't know if it would be right to talk about him behind his back with his friends. Did she have that right? Suddenly she felt like she didn't have the right at all to care about him, to be worried about him.

She'd only known him a few months, since January. She was only his most recent friend. She thought she counted as a good friend, at least she used to think he thought of her that way. Now she wasn't sure at all.

It hurt, and she felt sick.

*/*/*/*

Vin sought out Mary as soon as they got back to the house. He found her in the side yard, tossing some tin cans into the recycling bin. She smiled when she saw him, "How was the walk?" Instead of answering that question, Vin said:

"I'm sorry – about your brother. Buck told me." He saw the change in her face, the smile faded and she dropped her eyes, but he kept on. "I wouldn't have come in on you like that, when you were looking at his picture, if I knew."

"No, it's OK. Really." Mary had another smile on her face when she looked back up at him. "I was just a little sad thinking about him before, but that was before." Vin didn't believe her, but he didn't push it.

"Still – I'm sorry. Feels like I've just been making a mess of everything today."

"What have you made a mess of?" she asked. He heard patience in her voice.

"Well – dinner –" he started. Mary cut him off.

"This may come as a surprise to you, but I tend to make dinner every day. It's a habit I've gotten into since I've been married."

"Yeah but – I didn't eat it, Chris didn't eat it. I didn't mean for you to waste it."

"Waste it? Trust me – midnight tonight Chris will be raiding the refrigerator. And we can have ham and eggs for breakfast, and I have a ham and broccoli casserole recipe I save just for leftovers and -."

"_I don't want to eat anything."_ He didn't mean to say it so strongly. He didn't mean to say it at all but he couldn't help himself; the words came out all on their own. He felt sick. She'd know, she'd guess, she'd be one more person he'd have to pretend in front of and avoid.

He saw a faint flicker of _something_ cross her face, but instead of commenting on what he'd said, Mary only stepped closer and put her hand on his arm.

"What else do you think you messed up today?" she asked, and all the anger and frustration and helplessness that Vin felt raged through him and poured out in his voice.

"_Everything."_

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No." Vin shook his head, harder than he meant to. He'd only intended to apologize to her and then go away, to bed, or somewhere not around anybody else. He only wanted this day to be over.

"Is there _anything_ I can do?"

He could feel the warmth of Mary's hands, even through the sleeves of the shirt. More than that, he could feel the warmth of her concern for him. From the first time he met her, she'd shown him genuine affection. He always figured it was because he was Chris' friend, and not for any value of his own, and even after three years, he wouldn't let himself believe anything different.

Even if she was friends with him just for himself, what more could she do for him? Even if she didn't know what happened to him, even if she believed he'd 'only' been beat up, it was still incredible to him that she was taking care of him, feeding him, washing his clothes, giving him a safe place to sleep. What more could she possibly do for him than just be friends with him?

"I'm sorry about your brother." He said again. "I reckon that had to be hard to lose him."

"Vin…" she said it so firmly, he held his breath and met her gaze. "It would be just as hard for me to lose _you_."

*/*/*/*

Buck found Chris at the open refrigerator, staring down at the few bottles of beer on the lowest shelf. "A man shouldn't drink when he's got that look in his eyes." Buck said.

"It's just beer." Chris said, but he shut the fridge door.

"Chris – I've seen that look before and nothing is _just_ anything when you're looking like that. Take a seat and I'll get us some ice tea."

"Yeah…" Chris sat at the kitchen table and rested his head in his hands. Buck brought two glasses and the pitcher of ice tea to the table and sat across from Chris.

"There's something we need to talk about." He said, as he poured the tea.

"I don't want to talk about anything." Chris muttered from behind his hands.

"Well we're _gonna_ talk about this."

At the tone of Buck's voice, Chris lifted his head. "What?" he asked, suddenly worried.

"You're telling Vin he doesn't need to talk to anybody about what happened."

"He _doesn't_ need to."

"Who are you to say that? Can you see inside that boy's mind? Do you have any idea how much this can tear a person up emotionally as well as physically?"

"I sure the hell have an idea what a therapist can do to his mind." Chris snapped.

"_It's not the same thing_. It's not even comparing apples and oranges – you're comparing apples to worms. How much sense does that make?"

"How much sense does it make to send him to a stranger who doesn't know him and doesn't care about him, and is only going to make things worse for him? We're his friends. If he needs somebody to talk to, he can talk to us." Chris was definitely angry. "He can talk to _me_ if you don't want to have anything to do with it."

"Chris -." Buck tried his level best to keep his voice calm, but he wanted Chris to understand exactly what they were both talking about. "Chris – Vin can come talk to me anytime he wants, and he knows that. And I know you want to be able to talk to him but –." He held his hand up to cut off Chris' argument. "_But_ - Chris, you've gotta ask yourself how comfortable you'd be talking to Vin about this."

"I can talk to him about it." Chris grumbled. He took a swallow of ice tea.

"Can you honestly tell me that you could sit there and have a calm, level, non-emotional conversation with one of your best friends about three strangers breaking into his home and surprising him while he was naked? Could you sit there and keep eye contact with him if he wanted to talk about how they tried to force oral sex on him, or all the obscene things they said to him and the things they made him say?"

Buck hated to be saying these things, but he wanted Chris to face reality. He could tell he was getting through to Larabee, the way his face flushed and he looked down and away.

"Chris – I know you care about Vin, as much as you cared about Steve, and I know you want to help him anyway you know how. But even if you could sit and calmly discuss what it's like for a man to be raped, and what it's like to have three men piss on you just to humiliate you a little more, or how it feels to wish they'd kill you rather than violate you one more time – I know you couldn't sit there and calmly discuss the bastards who tortured him."

This brought Chris' head back up. "Damn right I wouldn't discuss them calmly. They deserve to die and the second I get my hands on them they'll be as dead as I could ever possibly make them."

"That's not what Vin needs, Chris." Buck said, still keeping his voice low and even. "Those rat criminals will probably never be caught because Vin will probably never report this. So it's not gonna do him one damn bit of good to keep dragging them along with him for the rest of his life. He needs to be able to let go of his fear and anger and hatred – and he can't do that if you can't. All this time, since this happened, he's been looking to you for strength and security and guidance. I'm not saying you can't help him Chris, but I _am_ saying you can't help him get over something you're dead stuck in the middle of."

"He doesn't need to talk to some stranger." Chris tried again.

"Fine." Buck spat. He squared his chair and folded his hands on the table. "If you think you can do this with Vin, prove it. Say one word for me. If you can say that one word, I will believe that you can have this conversation with Vin."

"What word?" Chris asked, sounding sure of himself. Buck took a breath and met his gaze straight on.

"_Sodomy._ Say that word Chris, even just to me, and I will believe you can do this."

A long, electric silence stretched between them, until Chris shoved his glass of ice tea away and stormed out of the kitchen.

to be continued


	61. Chapter 61

Chris was in Vin's room, plugging in the pole fan from downstairs, when Vin came in.

"I didn't realize it was so hot in here." Chris said. "You should've told me."

"It gets hotter than this in my apartment, even with the fans going."

"We'll take care of that too, then."

Vin shrugged. "Heat isn't high on my list of proof that I'm in hell right now."

"Still, you should be comfortable. You going to bed?" It was still early, and Chris was hoping to have a chance to talk to Vin.

"Yeah." Vin managed a smile. "Much as I hate a day like this to end, I'm going to bed."

"Today could _not_ have been worse than yesterday." Chris said.

"Bad enough in its own way I guess." Vin leaned his shoulder against the upright frame of the bunk bed. "Life's taking cheap shots at me physically one day and emotionally the next."

"Nettie?" Chris asked. He sat on the edge of the desk.

"Yeah, Nettie." Vin said her name on a long breath. "Lots of other things too." He swiped at nothing on the front of his t-shirt and stared at the floor.

"Vin – look –." Chris couldn't help thinking of all the things Buck had just said to him downstairs. He didn't _want_ to think about them, but they crowded his brain. Vin had been raped, and pissed on, and violated, repeatedly. There he stood not four feet in front of Chris, bruised and broken, and upright, but he had survived so much.

Maybe Buck was right, maybe Chris _wouldn't_ be able to talk to Vin.

"Vin -." He tried again, and Vin looked up at him. He looked frightened.

_Oh Lord,_ Chris realized. _He thinks I'm going to tell him he's got to get out, that I'm tired of having him here._ It might've been funny to Chris, if Vin didn't seem so truly scared. What could he say? Half a dozen ideas crossed his mind and he rejected each before it was even half formed.

"You know I'm glad you're here," finally passed muster.

"_Yeah_…" Vin allowed, but he didn't sound convinced. He was waiting for the _'but'_ that he expected Chris to follow with.

"Yeah." Chris echoed. "I'm glad you're here where I can keep an eye on you."

"Yeah?" The look of fear slowly transformed into wonder. But then the fear won out again. "You wouldn't just say that 'cause you got no choice, would you Chris? There's a lot of things I could stand, but I couldn't stand that."

"I would never just say that." Chris used his best serious voice. Vin moved slightly to wrap his arm around the upright frame. He bent his head down again.

"If it was anybody else but you Chris, I could stand it. If I ever drove you away, it would kill me."

At first Chris took a little offense that Vin thought he could be driven away, but then he realized the soft declaration was being offered from a man who rarely showed such vulnerability as emotional need. To hear Vin admit out loud that he needed someone – needed _Chris_ – was something entirely new and Chris found it very humbling.

"Well, I'll tell you Vin." Chris stood and walked to stand in front of him. "If Rain Jackson couldn't drive me away from you, I doubt there's anything you could do to make it happen." He could see Vin rolling that around his mind, and he was finally rewarded with one small chuff of laughter.

"C'mon." Chris went on. "It's still kind of early, and I know Buck's still here. Why don't you sit out on the deck with us and have some ice tea?"

"No." Vin shook his head. "No, I'm just gonna take a shower and go to bed. I can't say I'm particularly looking forward to tomorrow, but I won't mind today being over."

"Okay." Chris moved past him toward the door. "Take it easy with those painkillers."

"Yeah."

At the door though, Chris stopped and turned, and Vin turned to look back at him.

"I was going to say before –" He gestured at the desk where he'd been sitting. " – if you need to talk, or anything…" He let the unfinished offer hang. "Buck thinks I wouldn't be able to do it but I don't want you thinking you couldn't talk to me, about anything, if you need to."

Vin didn't answer at first, and Chris pressed on.

"That's why you don't need to talk to somebody else, some stranger who doesn't know you and has no idea what's going on. You've got us, you've got – me. Okay?" Chris began to feel a little desperation to get the whole thought spoken without tripping over his words or embarrassing either one of them any more than he might have already done. "I know it might not be easy, for either one of us, but I expect neither one of us ever walked away from something just because it was hard to do."

"No, I guess we've never done that." Vin agreed softly.

"All right then." Chris said after another moment. He felt better now, better than he had after Buck's little lecture. He'd stand next to Vin, and Vin would get better. He would – and he _could_ - watch out for Vin. "You get some rest, and I'll check on you later."

"Okay."

*/*/*/*

The night hadn't cooled off any, and the humid air was completely still. Buck was on the deck, in the half circle of the backyard light, and Chris went out to sit on the top step near him. Overhead, through the half-open bathroom window, they heard the shower turn on.

"How is he?" Buck asked.

"Tired. Still worried this'll get to be too much and I'll throw him out. He's gonna take a shower and go to bed."

"And how are _you_?"

"Tired…but okay." Chris had no intention of offering an apology, but he did want to clear the air. "Buck, even if I can't say - _that_ word – it doesn't mean I can't watch out for Vin, make sure he takes care of himself. If he's having a bad day and he needs to vent, I can listen to him vent. If he needs – if he needs –." Chris' thoughts went back to the dark front hallway, holding Vin while he poured out his pain and anguish and outrage. Could that really have been just a few days ago?

"If he needs…?" Buck prompted.

"You know, I don't remember once ever touching Steve? Except maybe a handshake. As bad as things ever got, as bad as _he_ ever got, I don't remember so much as putting my arm around his shoulders, just to let him know I was there."

"He knew you were there Chris. When he was OK, he knew you were there. When he wasn't OK – he didn't even know where _he_ was when he had those – those – well, whenever he got like that."

"But when he _wasn't_ 'like that', Buck –."

"Steve _knew_ you were there Chris." Buck repeated. "And Vin knows you're there. I expect that's the only reason he's been able to keep going this past week. He'll spend time with me, and he's talked to me, and he's talked to Josiah, but you Chris – right now you are his main support and comfort."

"It wasn't enough for Steve."

"How many conversations are we trying to have here Chris?" Buck had to ask. "Steve or Vin? I gotta be able to keep track."

Chris took a deep breath and let it out slowly, and rested his head in his hands.

"Ohh, Vin. If he needs – to be touched – I can touch him." He looked up at Buck. "You were holding him the other morning, in the kitchen when he was crying. I can do that. I _have_ done that already, Saturday night. Words aren't everything you know. Sometimes it's what you _don't_ say that matters." Chris didn't which one of them he was trying so hard to convince.

"You're right." Buck's easy agreement surprised Chris; he'd been expecting some kind of argument. "Vin's never been a big word-person. You watch him – he watches a person's actions and the look they get on their face, and he pays attention to what they mean when they're talking, not just what they're saying. All the talking in the world won't get that boy to believe one thing he doesn't want to believe. You're right."

"_Buuuuuuuuuut_…?" Chris asked after Buck didn't say anything else.

"_Buuuuuuuuuut_ –." Buck said immediately as though he'd only been waiting for that prompt. Then he seemed to run out of things to say. He sighed. "But _nothing_ Chris. I know you'll take care of him, even if you have to go into hell to do it. Whether or not Vin talks to a counselor doesn't have to be decided this minute, and when it does get decided, it'll be decided by Vin and nobody else. The only thing our arguing will do is use up what little oxygen there seems to be left in the atmosphere tonight."

"You got that right." Chris said. Both men sat for awhile in silence, just looking out over the dark landscape, until Chris said softly, "I always knew you were there too Buck.."

to be continued


	62. Chapter 62

Vin spent a long time in the shower, wishing the hot water could wash away _everything_, not just physical dirt. But he still felt dirty, no matter how clean he knew he was. So, he let himself be content with the hot water easing the ache in his back and hoped it would help him fall asleep.

Today had been too long, and too painful.

After he used up all the hot water, he got dried and got dressed, and threw his laundry into the hamper. When he left the bathroom, he met Buck in the hallway, carrying Billy sound asleep in his arms.

"Hey Vin – hang on a minute." Buck said quietly. "Let me set this bundle to bed, I wanna talk to you."

"Oh – sure. Okay." Vin wondered what Buck would want to talk about. Not that he thought it would be anything bad, he just was not up to talking about anything much at all. He went into the bedroom and sat on the lower bunk to wait.

Buck was there in a couple of minutes. He grabbed the chair from the desk and wasted no time.

"How're you doing?" he asked as he set himself down in front of Vin.

"I'm okay." Vin said. But he didn't even believe himself.

"_Right._"

"I'm tired?"

"Well, that doesn't surprise me…" Buck said. He seemed to be waiting for more.

"I don't know what you want, Buck." Vin admitted. "I don't guess I'm any better or any worse than I was twenty four hours ago." Then he remembered exactly _what_ had been going on twenty four hours before. He sketched his hand over the mattress he sat on. "Well, I guess I'm a little better than that."

"Do you need anything?"

"Will you keep checking my apartment? I feel like I've abandoned it."

"You know I will." Buck said. He still seemed to be waiting for something and Vin couldn't imagine what that might be. He was just looking at Vin like he had all the time and patience and compassion in the world.

"_I'm okay Buck_." Vin repeated.

"Well, I guess I'd believe that a lot more if you weren't sitting there hunched over like you were in pain, looking as pale as that pillow case and hanging onto the hem of Chris' shirt like you'd disappear without it."

That made Vin look down at his hands, and he saw that he did have a white-knuckle grip on the plaid shirt. Even though he saw it, and realized it, he couldn't get his hands to let go, or even relax. He couldn't move even when he saw Buck reaching out to cover one tense hand with his own. The touch was warm and oddly not distressing.

"It's been less than a week Vin. It's been five days."

"Do you want me to be okay or not Buck? I can't tell."

"I don't want you to be '_okay'_ just for appearances saken Vin, that's all. Sometimes '_okay'_ is when you know it's safe to _not_ be okay."

Vin appreciated, really appreciated that Buck wanted to reassure him, and comfort him, and give him every little bit of advice he could think of. But – Vin was tired and feeling a headache coming on. He wished Buck would just shut up, go home, and take his convoluted thinking with him. If he was OK, if he wasn't OK, what the hell stinking difference did it make anyway? He'd been raped, not passed over for promotion.

"Buck – I just want to go to sleep, okay?" _Just stop talking and leave me alone, okay?_

"You're gonna sleep in your clothes?" Buck asked. Vin's hands still wouldn't let go of Chris' shirt, and the tail of the shirt curled up and around his fists as he brought his hands up to his chest.

"I don't like not being dressed."

"Vin –." The tone was half questioning, half objection and Vin couldn't stand it.

"Buck – does it matter what I sleep in? Does it really matter?" he snapped. "I've got stitches and fractures and lacerations I don't even want to know about and if they don't heal I'm supposed to go to some doctor and _let_ him do to me what those bastards had to nearly kill me to do to me and going to work it hell and being alone is hell and JD hates me and Nettie won't talk to me and God alone knows what Ezra is thinking so does it really really matter what I sleep in?"

"No Vin, I guess it doesn't matter." Buck said quietly. There was no mistaking the hurt on his face. "I'm sorry, I'll let you get to sleep then." He stood up and put the chair back where it belonged. Vin wanted to say something, apologize, thank him for being there all day.

"I just don't feel good Buck." He finally offered.

"I know." Buck turned back to him, but he still looked hurt. "I just want you to take care of yourself. I've fallen asleep in my clothes, and it's not comfortable, that's all. I just want you to be comfortable."

Vin wanted to say '_that's not possible'_ but he only shook his head. He wondered if he'd driven Buck away too. He probably did. That thought added to his growing headache and made him feel sick. He wanted to tell Buck that he didn't have to check his apartment anymore if he didn't want to – but he didn't want Buck to agree.

"You'll come back tomorrow?" He asked instead.

"Yeah, I'll come back." Buck said. He smiled and the hurt look disappeared. "Don't you worry about that." He gave Vin's shoulder a comforting squeeze. "You get some sleep now – whatever you're wearing."

"Okay."

Midnight. Chris woke up hungry and went downstairs, rubbing his eyes and covering a yawn, and managing to button his jeans and half tuck in his t-shirt. He wanted to get to the leftover ham before Mary mixed it with broccoli. He'd make himself a sandwich and have some ice tea and go back to bed.

Cowboy padded down the stairs next to him and ran to the sliding doors to be let outside. They were partially open and the outside light was on, and when Chris looked out, he saw Vin sitting out on the top step of the deck. He went out and sat down next to him.

"You okay?"

Vin shrugged. He held the picture of his parents over his heart again. He didn't look up. When Chris had checked on him a couple of hours earlier, Vin had been asleep.

"Buck said you didn't feel well."

"I yelled at him." Vin said.

"That's not what he said. He said you were tired and frustrated and didn't feel well."

"I yelled at him."

Chris decided to concede. "Okay, so you yelled at him. Is that why you're sitting out here?"

"I have a headache."

"With _those_ painkillers?"

"Yeah. The headache woke me up. I feel dizzy though, I didn't want to take another painkiller on top of feeling dizzy."

At first Chris' brain automatically registered Vin's concussion as the reason he was dizzy – but then he remembered all of what Buck had said Vin had to eat that day.

"You need to eat Vin, that's why you're dizzy."

"I don't want to eat." Vin said, but he didn't sound too sure. This was usually the part of the conversation when Chris would hear Vin's stomach growl, but it didn't happen this time.

"Having only milkshakes today is why you have a headache."

"How do you know?" Vin asked.

"Because – I have a six year old son who's not allowed sugar. You need more to eat than milk solids, lactose, carrageenan, polysaccharides, guar gum, and Carboxymethyl cellulose."

Vin gave him a stunned look. "How the hell do you know all that?"

"Because -." Chris repeated, a little tiredly. "_I have a son who's not allowed sugar_. We memorize the labels of _everything_." Vin didn't say anything. "Come on in, Vin, and we'll find something you can eat. Bananas and milk? Cheese and crackers? Toast and tea with honey?"

"Tea anyway." Vin allowed. "That'd be okay."

They went into the kitchen and Chris waved Vin to a chair while he put water on for tea and took a tour of the cupboards and refrigerator looking for something he might persuade Vin to eat.

"Why don't you try some ham? It's good."

"No, just tea is good. I don't want to eat anything."

"You need protein." Chris said.

"So – I'll put a lot of milk in it."

Chris grumbled and kept looking. The best he came up with was some of those little cubes – of what he was never sure – that were supposed to turn into beef broth in hot water, but they had to be older than Billy so Chris didn't offer them as an option. He kept looking.

"Tomorrow Chris?" Vin's hesitant question brought him out of the refrigerator. "What are we doing tomorrow?"

"I hadn't thought about it." Chris said. He was lying – he'd thought of almost nothing else all evening. He didn't like any of the likely possibilities. "Something particular you've got in mind? Think you'd be okay with going to work?"

"Depends – you got a lot of meetings tomorrow? Or even one really, really long one?"

"Nope, not tomorrow thank God." Chris shut the fridge and came to sit at the table. "Tomorrow the lawyers get to be bored insensible by those idiots. Thanks to those meetings I survived yesterday and today, I got so much work to catch up on, I'll probably never leave my office tomorrow."

"Okay." Vin said. He seemed to be gathering strength. "Okay, then I'll go with you tomorrow."

to be continued


	63. Chapter 63

"You don't have to not eat, just because I'm not eating." Vin said. He had his cup of tea in his hand, heavily laced with milk. Across from him, Chris drank his own cup of tea. "Mary _said_ you'd be raiding the fridge around midnight."

"My mother always told me it's not polite to eat in front of people who aren't eating." Chris said.

"No she didn't. She said it's not polite to eat in front of people without offering them something."

"How do you know that?" Chris asked. Vin was right.

"Because – that's what my mother used to say too…" Vin finished his tea, and poured himself some more, adding even more milk. "So anyway, you offered. I declined. Eat."

"It's not so much eating as wanting to finish the ham before Mary adds broccoli to it. Broccoli is a terrible thing to do to ham."

"Gee whiz, first pizza without pepperoni, now ham without broccoli. It's a wonder you eat anything at all." Vin said. He rested his head in one hand. He sounded tired. "I bet you don't even eat peanut butter and jelly on the same piece of bread."

"Is your headache getting worse?"

"Naah." Vin shook his head and turned a little to look up at Chris. "Just tired. I didn't do much of anything at all today but I'm worn out." With his other hand, he twirled his tea cup. "You should just go on and eat Chris. Won't do to have both of us ailing."

Chris was hungry, but he didn't want to eat if Vin didn't. But he sure didn't want to have to pick through broccoli to get to the ham tomorrow night at dinner. Anyway, Vin should eat, he was pale and bound to get paler if he didn't eat.

Usually, Vin ate more than seemed reasonable for a fella his size. He ate more than Ezra, he even ate more than JD. It wasn't unusual for him to eat nearly as much as Buck, and Buck had to outweigh him by forty pounds at least. If it took that much food to keep Vin as thin as he was, it would only be a few days before he vanished away into nothing if he didn't eat anything at all.

An idea occurred to Chris, so suddenly it startled him.

"C'mon, let's go for a ride." He stood up.

"What?" Clearly, Vin was startled too.

"Let's go to the store, there's a twenty-four hour Tops Market down on the Boulevard. We'll get you some Breakfast Drink or Ensure –."

"_Ensure_?" Vin interrupted, riled. "Mrs. Stempniak drinks that and she's nine hundred years old."

" – or that chocolate diet whatever that Mary drinks." But Chris could see Vin wasn't agreeing to his plan. "Come on, it feels like it's cooled off outside. It'll be a nice night for a drive…"

"A drive? You want to go for a drive at midnight? You're not even wearing shoes."

"Vin – you need to eat. You won't eat solid food and you can't live on ice cream. I'll go with you or without you, but if we don't get something now, you won't have anything to eat for breakfast. And I'm not taking you to work high on sugar."

But Vin didn't answer him, he sat so long looking so unhappy , staring at his hands, that Chris wondered if he'd said something or done something that might've hurt Vin's feelings. After a minute, he took his seat again at the kitchen table.

"What?" He saw Vin swallow and begin to shake his head.

"Do you know what this feels like?" Vin asked, and Chris found himself hoping he wasn't referring to the _physical_. Nothing to do but just jump in.

"No. What does it feel like?"

"I wish I was dead."

"_Don't say that_." Chris felt a stab of fear go right up through his chest. "Don't even think that."

"Why not? It's true. I can't help feeling how I feel."

"Yeah but don't – don't –." Chris was nearly going to tell Vin '_don't feel that way_' but he knew how hard it could be to _not_ feel something. "It's just – everything's going to be fine Vin. You just have to keep reminding yourself of that. Everything is going to be fine."

Vin looked at him a while, until finally he nodded. "Okay."

*/*/*/*

_Everything is fine. Everything is fine. Everything is fine._ The words ran through Vin's mind like a litany.

'What if I eat something and it makes things worse?'

_Everything is fine._

'I was mean to Nettie and she'll probably never talk to me again.'

_Everything is fine._

'Chris is going to get sick of taking care of me and I won't be able to stay here anymore.'

_Everything is fine._

Vin lay on the top bunk in the guest room, staring at the ceiling. He'd gone back to bed after finished their tea, and Chris had given up his late night trip to the grocery store. Now, it had to be at least a few hours later, Vin was still awake, not even trying to get his mind to slow down. He'd been thinking about it ever since then. Suddenly it was all so clear. Nothing was okay, but _everything is fine._

That was it, that was the answer to everything. It was so simple, Vin didn't know why he hadn't thought of it before. No matter what life threw at him from now on, from now on _everything is fine._

*/*/*/*

Waking up the next morning was easy – Vin hadn't gone to sleep at all. When he heard Mary downstairs in the kitchen, he climbed down from the bunk bed to start this new day. Pain shot up through his spine and he had to grip the bed frame to keep himself steady. Through clenched teeth, he repeated "_Everything is fine. Everything is fine. Everything is fine._" until the worst of the pain had past and he could hobble down to the bathroom.

"_Everything is fine, everything is fine, everything is fine._" He stopped and looked at himself in the mirror. Did that mean he should take a shower, or he shouldn't take one? Did 'fine' mean it was fine to be clean, or fine to be dirty?

Vin stared at himself in the long mirror, standing there in the wrinkled clothes he'd slept in. He needed a shave, his hair needed to be brushed. He'd been wearing Chris' shirt non-stop since Sunday.

Was 'fine' dirty, or was 'fine' clean?

After another minute or so, Vin decided he was 'fine' the way he looked, since taking a shower wasn't going to help anyway. He used the toilet briefly, and washed his hands, and pulled a disposable razor out of the bag of them in the closet to give himself a fast shave. Finally he ran his hands through his hair to make it behave then headed downstairs to face breakfast.

"_Everything is fine. Everything is fine. Everything is fine._"

*/*/*/*

"I'm not eating that if you put broccoli in it." Chris warned Mary, as he watched her making omelets.

"Broccoli is good for you."

"I'm allergic to it."

"You are not."

"I am." Chris insisted. "Eating broccoli gives me the creeps."

Mary rolled her eyes and sighed and kept on cooking. "I _can_ put cheese in with the ham, can't I? You will eat that?"

"I don't know." Chris eyed her suspiciously. "What kind of cheese?" Just when it seemed Mary was going to swat Chris with her spatula, Vin came into the kitchen. He stopped in the doorway and seemed undecided if he should stand or he should sit. Chris looked at closely; he was still wearing the same clothes from last night, he hadn't taken a shower, but he had shaved.

"Good morning Vin." Mary said, brightly.

"Mary. Chris."

"Heyn Vin." Chris walked closer to the table and pulled out a chair. "You better sit down, this could take a while. I'm explaining to Mary the fine art of not putting broccoli in my food."

Vin took the seat, and a smile actually made it all the way from his mouth to the corners of his eyes. "Don't expect help from me." He said. But he still sounded tired to Chris. "I like broccoli."

"See?" Mary told Chris. Then she back to Vin. "How did you sleep last night?" Chris watched Vin blink a few times and then swallow.

"Fine." Vin said.

to be continued


	64. Chapter 64

Chris didn't like it.

Something was going on that he couldn't quite figure out, and that alone was enough to bother him. But, more than that, it was something going on with Vin, and Chris _really_ didn't like that.

First, Mary asked Vin what he'd like for breakfast. Chris was expecting – and he knew that Mary was expecting – Vin to prefer a milkshake, or Carnation Instant Breakfast, or anything not solid. But he said that whatever Mary was making would be fine.

Then Chris watched as Vin ate the ham and cheese – _and broccoli_ – omelet that Mary set in front of him. He ate it mechanically, with as blank an expression on his face as Chris had ever seen. Vin looked as though he wasn't even at the table, except physically.

When Mary asked how the food was, Vin smiled a smile that Chris knew wasn't genuine, and said "Fine."

Then for the rest of the morning, everything had been 'fine'. The food was fine, the orange juice was fine, his back was fine, his head was fine. He'd slept fine, and woke up fine. The drive to the University had been fine, his desk was fine, his chair was fine, the air conditioning was fine…

Not that Chris felt right about complaining. Usually 'fine' was the preferred answer. There was the time he accidentally distracted Vin when he was helping Chris build the deck out back and Vin walloped his thumb with the hammer instead of the spike. He'd all but spit '_no, I'm fine' _at Chris while he glared at him and squeezed his thumb in his good hand.

Or that morning two winters ago, Vin had dragged himself out of a sick bed to attend the funeral of Gloria Potter's husband. That raw wintry day, he'd been '_fine'_ though he was pale and unsteady and shivered violently, more from the fever of his bronchitis than from the wind.

Or that other time, the first time they got Vin to play baseball at the University picnic. He ran for a fly ball just as JD did, and they collided heavily. That time, coming up with the baseball in his glove, Vin grinned his '_fine'_ despite a bloody nose and split lip.

Today Chris found Vin's '_fine'_ disturbing. There was so much evidence to suggest that Vin _wasn't_ fine, yet he said it as automatically as he said 'bless you' whenever someone sneezed, and with probably a lot less thought.

So, the morning had passed quietly in Chris' office. Vin spent most of his time reading, answering, and sending emails. Getting more Maintenance and Groundskeeping work scheduled. They didn't talk much, mostly because if Chris heard one more "fine" out of him, he was going to give Vin a legitimate reason _not_ to be fine.

But finally, it was lunchtime.

"Vin?"

"Yeah?" Vin looked around his computer screen.

"It's coming on to lunchtime. Any thoughts?" No way was Chris going to suggest something and give Vin the chance to say _that_ word. Even so, Vin just shrugged.

"Whatever. It doesn't matter to me."

"Liver and onions?" Chris tried. Vin shook his head and went back to his keyboard. His sounded defeated.

"_I don't care." _

Chris was beginning to think maybe 'fine' _was_ the better answer. He came around to sit on the edge of his desk. "How're you doing, Vin?"

"I'm fine." It was as automatic as intermittent windshield wipers.

"Yeah, you sound it."

"Well what choice do I have?" Vin demanded. "I can't feel how I'm really feeling. You said everything is fine. So – everything is fine."

"I said everything _will be_ fine, Vin. I didn't say everything had to be fine right now."

"Well I sure wish you'd make up your mind. I can't feel bad, I can't feel fine." At first he sounded angry, but as he took a breath to continue, his voice took on a desperate edge. "I can't feel _nothing_ because I tried that and it didn't work. What else is there?" He asked as if he genuinely wanted to know.

"Angry. Why don't you feel angry? I bet you were mighty angry when they tried to molest Maria."

"Yeah."

"So why aren't you angry for what they did to you?" Chris asked. He was angry at what they'd done to Vin; he wanted Vin to be angry too.

"I been on my own a long time now." Vin said. His words came out measured. "Since my Dad died. I spent a couple years with an aunt, my Mom's brother's ex-wife. But even with her, all it pretty much was was a place to sleep. She didn't – she wasn't exactly an 'involved' caretaker. I been taking care of myself half my life now. This is the first time I couldn't take care of myself."

"You call three criminals breaking into your house and attacking you '_not taking care of yourself_'?"

"If I'd been stronger, they wouldn't have been able to - _attack_ - me."

"Vin – there isn't a man on earth strong enough to overcome three attackers, when you had no weapon and they had the surprise."

"A man – a real man – doesn't let himself get raped." Vin said. He said it as though he was explaining something obvious to Chris.

"You didn't _let_ them do anything."

"You think it would've happened to you?"

For a moment, Chris got stuck in what he was going to say. He never thought how he'd be reacting in the same situation because he just assumed he would never _be_ in the same situation. It wasn't a deliberate slam at Vin or his strength or his masculinity or his manhood. Chris just automatically and almost unconsciously believed that in the same set of circumstances, he would have prevailed. He never thought of Vin as a weak man, physically or otherwise, and he knew Nathan was wrong for placing the blame of the attack on Vin's size and strength.

But also knew that, unwillingly, he thought so too.

Vin took his silence for the answer it was.

"Yeah, I figured as much." He said bitterly. He snapped off his computer screen and headed for the office door. "I'm going for a walk. Have lunch without me."

"Vin –."

"_What?_"

Chris still hesitated on the words. "That's not what I think."

"Yeah, it sounds like it." Then he left the office and slammed the door behind himself.

*/*/*/*

After Vin left Chris' office, he went outside, but other than that, he had no idea where he was going or what he was going to do. How could Chris think that? How could he say that? How could he – how could he do anything or say anything or think anything different than what he'd been doing and saying and thinking since this whole stinking mess began? For a long, bizarre moment, Vin couldn't even believe that the Chris he just left was the same Chris who had been so concerned and supportive and understanding this whole past week.

He'd go home, that's all, Vin decided. He could walk. It'd be a long walk, but he could do it. There wasn't anywhere in North America he couldn't walk to if he had to. He'd been taking care of himself by himself since he was fifteen. Maybe he hadn't always done the best job at it, not even including the attack, but he'd survived. He'd survived alone then and if he had to, he could survive alone now. There was nobody so all-fired important in his life that Vin couldn't do without them.

It'd be easier anyway, he told himself as he hurried across the Green. He could go somewhere new, somewhere nobody knew him and nobody knew what had happened. If he could get somewhere like that, it'd be almost like nothing _had_ happened, which would make it almost worth losing all the friends he used to have now.

_Almost. _

He'd lose this most recent Chris in a heartbeat. But he didn't want to lose the Chris he'd known for the past three years, and especially not the one who'd stuck right by his side this past week. There was nothing worth losing _that_ Chris.

Vin walked to the far end of the Green, away from the buildings, where there were park benches scattered under ancient maple trees. Nobody was around, so he took a seat on the closest bench and closed his eyes. He still wished he was dead, but he also wished that he _didn't_ wish he was dead.

That was progress, wasn't it?

*/*/*/*

"Chris – you can't beat yourself up about it." Buck said over the phone.

"I might as well have told him he invited them to hurt him, for the look he gave me when he walked out of here." Angry at himself for letting Vin down, and not being able to find his way through it, Chris had called Buck to vent. "That's not what I meant and that's not what I think. Not really. I don't think so. I wouldn't think that about Vin. I wouldn't think that about any of our friends if it happened to them. He just – he caught me off guard. If I'd known he was going to ask that, I would've – not lied. It's wouldn't be a lie. I just – I would've had it all worked out before so that when he asked me – if I'd known he was going to ask me -."

"Chris – give it up before you strangle yourself on your own anxiety. I know that's not what you think, I know it's just a conditioning we all have. Hell, it doesn't even have to be rape. Any man who lets himself get beat at cars, women, or sports, the whole society thinks less of him. It's just conditioning."

On the other end of the phone, Chris heard Buck sigh. He could almost feel him pondering it.

"Vin got hurt because he stepped in and saved little Maria." Buck went on. "He couldn't have _not_ stepped in, and you and me both would think less of him if he hadn't. He could see there was three of them, and he could see they were bigger than him. And we both know that even if there'd been _twelve_ of them, he still would've defended her. That doesn't sound like a coward to me."

"No, it doesn't." Chris agreed.

"You gonna be OK, Chris? You need me to come over there? I know how hard this is on you too."

"No Buck. Thanks." Chris held off saying he was 'fine', but he smiled when he thought about it. "I'm going to go find Vin and see if I can't explain it better, I guess. He's got to know I didn't mean it."

"He'll understand Chris, don't worry. But if you do need me, you call me. Okay?"

"Okay Buck. I will."

They hung up, and Chris considered what he was going to do now.

*/*/*/*

With his eyes still closed, Vin smelled it before he saw it. He looked up as Chris sat down on the park bench next to him. He was carrying a take-out bag from the sub shop in the Student Union, and he handed Vin what turned out to be a chicken finger sub, wrapped in butcher paper. Vin took that, and he took the can of Pepsi Chris handed him next. He gave Chris a questioning look.

"Vin..." Chris began, as he stared down at his own wrapped sub and can of soda pop. "They didn't -." It seemed he had to take a deep breath to get the word out. " - _rape_ you because you aren't a man. They did it because _they_ aren't real men. And if I think you're less of a man because of what happened to you, then I'm not a real man either."

It was the most startling thing Vin could remember Chris saying, and he couldn't think of any way to respond. He held his sub in one hand and his Pepsi in the other and struggled to come up with something to say in answer to that. Chris didn't seem to be waiting for any answer though. He set the pop can aside and began to unwrap his sub.

When nothing at all came to mind, Vin gave up the struggle and unwrapped his own sub and began to eat as well.

to be continued


	65. Chapter 65

Orrin Travis didn't like it.

Something was going on that he couldn't quite figure out, and that alone was enough to bother him. But, more than that, it was something going on with Chris Larabee and Vin Tanner, and he _really_ didn't like that.

Vin had never called in sick two days in the same week. As far as Orrin knew, he'd never called in sick two full days in the same _year_. But this was Thursday, and he'd missed two full days of work this week already. And Chris – he'd been acting differently as well. He'd taken Monday off, but he periodically called in sick. On his time sheet, he usually marked it "MHD" – Mental Health Day, and Orrin never questioned it.

This past week though, even on the phone, Chris seemed distracted. Coupled with the fact that Mary told Orrin last night that Vin was staying with them, he wondered if Vin was hurt worse than anyone was letting on.

So, Orrin was taking himself a little walk over to Chris' office to find out exactly what the hell was going on.

Orrin had known Chris for better than ten years, since he started dating Mary. Chris could be an obdurate, short-tempered, blunt man, but there wasn't much Orrin wouldn't take at his word alone. A person didn't have to be with Chris more than five minutes to know that he was always dead serious, and never took anything lightly.

Vin Tanner was another man Orrin relied on and trusted. He met Vin when he'd been named to the Board of Trustees of St. Michael's University, and Vin was still in the lower levels of Groundskeeping. Four years later, after Chris accepted the position as head of Security, it was something of a surprise to Orrin when Chris and Vin became friends. There was the difference in their ages and their outlook, Orrin thought. Vin was in his early twenties, Chris in his late thirties when they met. Chris was as fixed as the North Star, Vin seemed willing to adjust to any circumstance.

But there was also Stephen.

It'd only been in the last year or so that Orrin could even think of his son without his heart feeling like it would freeze and crack right in his chest. He'd never been able to talk about Stephen with Chris – he didn't know if he could, and he didn't think Chris could either. Chris had become so thin and closed emotionally after Stephen died, Orrin was surprised but grateful when he began including Vin in family activities, the same way he included Buck. It made Orrin believe Chris was recovering from Stephen's death.

The thing was – Vin seemed just as grateful and surprised to be included. And he seemed to come to life just as much as Chris did.

The first four years Orrin had been on campus, he didn't interact much with Vin. The few dozen times they'd had an opportunity to talk were always brief, and usually work-related. Vin was always pleasant if somewhat reserved. Once he and Chris had become friends, Orrin saw Vin more often, either at work or at Chris' home. Orrin found that he enjoyed having conversations with him; despite his frequent lapses of grammar, it was easy to tell that Vin Tanner was a highly intelligent young man who could be doing much better for himself than mowing lawns and plowing driveways for a living, and Orrin had developed a warm regard for him.

The last six months or so though, Vin had really opened up, and Orrin credited that without hesitation to Nettie Wells. She was the mother it seemed Vin Tanner had never had. It was impossible to make the slightest mention of Nettie to Vin without hearing all about the thoughtful, generous, gracious lady who had become a part of his life. To hear Vin talk – from the tone of his voice almost more than the words he used – you would think no woman had ever cooked as well, knew as much, or cared as deeply as Nettie Wells did.

The door to Chris' office was closed over, and Orrin looked around. Chris was behind his desk, with his mind apparently not on his work with his head in one hand, while the other hand traced lazy doodles on the legal pad in front of him. He looked up.

"Chris?" A further peek around the door gave Orrin the view of Vin – asleep behind a newly-installed computer at a newly-installed desk. "Can I see you outside a moment?"

"Yeah." Chris came around the desk and out into the hall. He shut the door completely behind them.

"Is Mr. Tanner all right?"

"A combination of painkillers and lunch, probably." Chris shrugged. "The pain meds always make him sleepy. I think maybe Nathan gave him too big a dose."

"My concern isn't merely confined to his present state."

If he startled Chris with his question, Orrin would never know. Chris had a better poker face than even Ezra Standish. Ezra's eyes occasionally gave some hint of his feelings – Chris' eyes never gave away anything. But – Orrin had known him long enough to sense a change in Chris. Something _was_ going on.

*/*/*/*

Vin woke up, not caring for the pain in his back, or the feeling in his stomach. Eating twice today after not eating all yesterday might not have been such a good idea. He tensed his muscles and relaxed them instead of stretching, and carefully stood up from the chair. Chris wasn't at his desk, and Vin could hear voices out in the hallway. If he'd stopped to listen, he could probably tell who it was, Chris and somebody. But he had things he needed to accomplish so he just kept going out of the office.

*/*/*/*

Orrin was about to press the issue when the door to Chris office opened and Vin appeared. He looked like a man who had just awakened from a very heavy sleep, his eyes were puffy, and he blinked as though they were dry. He looked back and forth between the two men before it seemed he recognized them.

"Hey Judge." He sounded surprised. "You slumming?" Speaking sounded like it was an effort for him.

"I had some business to discuss with Chris. How are you today?"

"I'm -." A sudden yawn interrupted his sentence and he covered his mouth. " – fine. I'm going to use the bathroom at the end of the hall."

"Why don't you use mine?" Chris asked him. Vin shook his head.

"I prefer home court advantage." He said, and shuffled off down the hallway, hunched and fragile looking.

"Mary said he's been staying with you." Orrin continued, when Vin was out of earshot.

"He's got a fractured _spine_ Orrin."

"Should he be working at all?"

"He's helping me with the James' mess." Chris said, too quickly. "He was getting maintenance work scheduled all morning. No, he shouldn't be at work, but he's doing me the favor coming in."

"He's doing _you_ the favor." Orrin said, flatly.

Chris folded his arms across his chest. "Yes. He is."

Chris didn't scare Orrin – he'd lived too long and seen too much to quake in front of this pup. But Chris did seem to be hiding something, and that concerned him. Still, he hadn't gotten as far as he had in this life by being a micro-manager. If he would take Chris word on anything else, he had to take it on this.

"Just tell me one thing Chris. Is there anything – professional _or_ personal – that I should be concerned about with Vin?"

"He'll be fine. I'll make sure of it."

*/*/*/*

Lord it hurt – it hurt like hell. Even now, several minutes after using the toilet, the pain was just as bad as when it'd been first inflicted. Vin stood against the wall next to the door that led into the hallway, waiting for the pain to go away. It was the only spot in the bathroom where he could stand and not see himself in a mirror. He didn't want to see himself.

He wanted to go back to Chris' office, but the pain was unbearable and he couldn't move. When was this all going to be over? When wasn't it going to hurt to sit or to stand or to cough or to sneeze? When wouldn't he have to be afraid to eat? He didn't want to not eat, but it seemed like the only way to keep from being in pain. How long was it going to take for that – that - _that_ - to heal? He didn't want to have to go to a doctor for _that_.

"_Everything is fine. Everything is fine. Everything is fine._" He repeated it desperately. "God please _make everything fine._"

His body wanted to sink to the floor, but he was afraid of setting off the pain again that seemed finally to be subsiding. He pressed himself hard against the wall to keep upright and squeezed his eyes shut against the tears of pain.

It was too much – this was all too much for him to carry. He'd done a good thing and this was the result of it – living the rest of this life with pain and fear and blame. He took a deep breath and choked out:

"_Damn Maria anyway for getting me into this."_

to be continued


	66. Chapter 66

_Ten minutes._

Chris wondered if Vin was okay, taking so long in the bathroom.

_Eleven minutes._

Maybe he should go check, in case something was wrong.

_Twelve minutes._

'Of course something's wrong. The question is how wrong and what should I be doing about it?'

_Thirteen minutes._

Which would be worse, checking on Vin if things were just– taking awhile. Or not checking on him if he needed help.

_Fourteen minutes._

Okay, what kind of 'help' might Vin need in a bathroom, and could Chris give him that help?

_Fifteen minutes_

Which was stupider, worrying about offering help to a friend who might not need it, or actually having a discussion with yourself about it?

_Sixteen minutes._

Chris was out the door and down the hall.

*/*/*/*

He pushed the swinging door open cautiously. "Vin? You okay?"

"I'm _fine._" Vin answered, from off to his right. Chris took a couple of steps to get past the ell and have a look down the line of sinks and mirrors. There, just a few feet away, Vin stood hunched over a sink. The water was on and he was using handfuls of it to rinse his face.

"I got kinda worried, thought maybe you got lost."

"It hurt too much to move. I had to wait for it to stop hurting."

"Wait for what to stop hurting?" Chris asked, and immediately regretted it.

"_What the hell do you think was hurting?_" Vin snapped. He straightened up and pulled his sleeve over his face to wipe off the water. Then he turned to reach for a paper towel, but he froze suddenly, squeezed his eyes shut and sucked in a sharp breath of pain. His hands balled into fists.

"Vin?" Chris went to him.

"That's what I get for yelling at you, I guess." Vin managed to say.

"And being yelled at is what I deserve for asking a stupid question." Chris reached out, but didn't have any idea where it would be safe to touch Vin. "What can I do? Should I get Nathan?"

"_Not even if I was on fire."_ He hadn't opened his eyes.

"Okay. Scratch that. No Nathan. Just – hold onto me." Chris moved in close enough to put an arm around Vin. The other hand he put under Vin's elbow, wanting to take Vin's weight as much as he could. He hoped that would help. "Just hold on."

At first, Vin didn't move an inch. His breath came in short gasps of pain. Chris would've done anything to make it stop, to make it better, to make it never have happened. As Vin gave in a little to the support, Chris found himself wondering what he'd be doing if this had happened to one of their other friends instead.

If it'd been JD – and Chris just followed his own unwanted prejudice that size and strength _did_ matter and chose JD first – if it'd been JD, Buck would be the one standing here, giving physical support. Chris would offer concerned, compassionate, _sincere_ remarks aimed at making JD feel okay about himself.

If it'd been Ezra – no point in thinking about that probably. If it happened to Ezra they'd all be long gone and dead in their graves before anybody knew. It had taken Ezra seven months just to allude to the fact that he'd surprised a burglar prowling around his bushes last Christmas. But if it happened and they _did_ find out about it, Chris knew he wouldn't know what to say. But he could picture himself being there in the silence. Ezra always put more stock in actions than words anyway.

"Chris?" Vin's voice broke into his thoughts. "Think we might try getting back to the office? I really need to sit down."

"Sure. Can you walk by yourself? I'll get the door."

If it was Buck – well Chris didn't like to think about that possibility but he was already into the 'what-ifs'. Chris wouldn't leave Buck's side either, no matter how much he knew Buck would try to make him think he was okay. Maybe at first he would be okay, and maybe it wouldn't rattle him the way it was rattling Vin, but Chris would be there just the same.

Nathan was another one Chris figured would be close-mouthed about it, except to brush off any well-intentioned sympathy or support. Nathan would deal with it no doubt by redoubling his efforts to help _other_ people, so maybe Chris would be looking for something to need Nathan's help with.

"You want to rest a second?" Chris asked. Vin nodded. They were about three quarters of the way to the office. Vin had been gradually slowing down.

"I hate to do it, but I think I need to take a muscle relaxant if I ever expect to take a deep breath again."

"Let's close up shop then and head home. Sleeping at your desk can't be doing your spine any good at all."

"Okay." Vin started walking again and reached back to pat the hand that had been steadying him. "Thanks Chris."

Following Vin the last couple of yards down the hallway, Chris thought of Josiah. It bothered Chris to even think of something like this happening to Josiah. Maybe because he older, maybe because he was a priest. Maybe because he was a priest and had a deep faith and belief in God, Chris automatically thought Josiah would handle it better than any of them. But, he also figured Josiah was a man same as any of them, and who knew how he'd react?

Last of all, that left – him. Chris. What would he be doing now if he'd been the one attacked? He'd be able to survive if he could summon enough anger to obliterate the fear and shame, and he was pretty good at summoning anger. So, he'd survive. That's all. He'd survive.

He'd make sure Vin survived too.

*/*/*/*

Vin opened the door to Chris' office and took a view of his temporary desk. How many other people would Chris have brought into his territory? Sure, Chris said it was to make it easier for the two of them to discuss getting work done in James' absence, but they'd gone all morning this morning with hardly saying a word between them. Vin had spent most of his time reviewing and scheduling email requests for Maintenance, and double-checking the pre-semester Groundskeeping procedures. After lunch, he couldn't remember doing much but sleeping.

He wondered if he'd actually gotten anything accomplished today. He trusted the crews enough to get the work done that he didn't think he had to go around and inspect it. Maybe that was presumptuous anyway, since Chris was in charge of Environmental Services now. He could check if he wanted to.

Walking around, Vin sat at his desk to make a final check of emails and pending decisions before he shut everything down and let Chris take him home. Maybe tomorrow he'd feel like he'd done more than play email-tag and argued with Chris. His brain was still so fogged on the painkillers, he couldn't even get the argument to come into clear focus.

They had argued, but it was okay because Chris had apologized. That thought almost brought a genuine, audible laugh out of Vin. Not that Chris hadn't apologized in his own way – it's just that Chris' way never had the word 'sorry' in it. But it was okay because it was okay. Hell, it was better than okay, it was _fine_.

Well, maybe it'd been a little of Vin's own fault too. A little. A very little. He'd never stopped to think how all this might be wearing on Chris. Oh, he'd thought often enough about how having to take care of Vin might be wearing Chris down, but it hadn't occurred to him how much Chris might be distressed because Vin had been hurt. That surprised him. And it surprised him that it surprised him.

Why else would Chris be going to all this time and trouble and care?

'_Because you're friends, you idiot._' Vin chided himself. '_How many other people would he put up with through all this? Don't push it, don't poke at it. Just accept it._'

Busy at his own desk, Chris eventually pushed all the necessary buttons and asked, "You about ready to go?"

"Yeah…Chris?"

"What?"

That was it exactly - _what_? What did he want to tell Chris, or ask him, or mention, or say? What was there sitting so heavy in his chest that seemed like it would fly if he could ever get it out in the air? Of all the times in his life when Vin would've expected to be the most alone, this was the one time he felt the most strongly _not_ alone. It was Buck, and Josiah and Mary – but most of all it was _his friend_ sitting at the desk just opposite him, waiting for Vin to finish his thought.

"Tomorrow, lunch is on me."

to be continued


	67. Chapter 67

Vin wasn't sorry to be leaving work. This day had not done him any good, physically or otherwise. His back hurt, his head hurt, _other things_ hurt that he was not about to put a name to. Just let him get to bed and take as much medication as it was safe to do and be unconscious as long as it took to wake up again not feeling this bad.

Maybe he could be unconscious straight through dinner and not have to worry about eating or trying to get out of it.

The weather was mild as they walked out of the building and toward the parking lot, and a warm wind found its way around the trees. Pleasant weather lately surprised Vin. The way he was feeling, nothing less than thunder, lightning, and earthquakes could come close to approximating the turmoil inside of himself.

Chris was just pulling his keys of out of his pocket, and Vin was just stepping off the curb into the parking lot when a woman walked by and stopped right in front of Vin.

"Hey! How're you doing?"

She looked familiar, Vin knew he should know her, but his mind was barely turning fast enough to stay upright, much less remember faces.

"Well – I don't know." Was this a joke? Who was she?

"I'm sorry – you probably don't recognize me without my lab coat on." She smiled and waved a hand at her tan pants and sleeveless denim shirt. "I'm Amanda, the x-ray tech."

"Oh yeah – no – I didn't recognize you. How am I?" _Why was she talking to him?_ "I'm fine." He realized that for some reason, he didn't want to lie to her entirely. "My back hurts a little." He wanted to say something more to her, something a man would say to a pretty woman who was showing even a casual interest in him. He was never as fluent at it as Buck maybe, but not every woman fell for Buck's lines anyway. "I appreciate you asking." That was the absolute truth. He didn't even notice that Chris had moved to the far side of his truck to give them a little space.

"Well, it's not every person I'd stop and check on, you know." And she was still smiling. "You're just one of the nicer people I've had to work with in awhile."

"The other patients can't be that bad." He said, puzzled. Amanda laughed – _and put her hand on his arm_.

"You forget, I work with Nathan and Rain." She gave his arm a gentle squeeze. "When you come to the clinic to have those stitches out, come on back and say 'hi'." Then she smiled goodbye and walked away, leaving Vin nearly speechless.

"_I will_." He felt his heart pounding, and for the first time in a while, it wasn't from fear. He watched her go, and finally smiled himself.

Then he remembered what he must look like, dressed in clothes he slept in, hair hardly brushed, thin and bruised and in pain. He ran his hand over his face, and felt the two-thirty shadow of the token shave he'd given himself that morning.

"Do I look as bad as I feel?" he asked Chris as he walked to the passenger door of the truck. Chris appeared to give him a thorough look-over.

"No – you'd have to be dead to feel _that_ bad." He said. He sounded serious, but then he turned to watch the young lady walking away from them toward the Green, as though he read Vin's thoughts. Vin scowled at him.

"I guess sarcasm must be a side effect of Viagra."

*/*/*/*

Vin sat at the desk in the guest room in Chris' house. He rested his chin on his folded arms and stared at the two medicine bottles that stood just a few inches away. Painkillers and muscle relaxants. Before this week, the strongest medicine he ever took was aspirin for an occasional headache, or Aleve if he pulled a muscle. Even those were few and far between. Now here he was taking prescription painkillers like they were Lifesavers.

It wasn't like he was a health nut or anything. He'd been known to drink his fair share of chocolate milk, and there'd been a weekend or two where his entire diet consisted of pizza, potato chips, and root beer.

Planned exercise wasn't high on his list either, he figured he got enough exercise just doing his job every day. He liked playing baseball when the guys got together. Him and Nettie had gotten into the habit of walking around the block at dark once or twice a week, and he mowed her lawn every Friday.

The last two thought made Vin turned his head down so that his eyes were pressed against his arms. He'd lost Nettie forever, he knew it. He was in constant pain, he was becoming a prescription druggie, and he'd lost Nettie. As far as he could remember, he'd never done anything vicious or cruel to anybody else, why did his life get to be blown all to hell?

"I thought I brought you home so that you wouldn't have to sleep at a desk?" Chris asked from behind him. "Doesn't sitting like that hurt your back?"

"It hurts no matter what I do." Vin sat back in the chair, and added "Thanks," when Chris set a glass of ice water on the desk.

"Then shouldn't you be taking those pills instead of trying to will them into your system?"

It took a few moments for Vin to admit, "I'm afraid of what happened last time."

Chris nodded that he understood, and sat on the bottom bunk. "You know that doesn't matter, Vin."

"How would you feel if it happened to you? You're not the one who's got to wake up every morning and pretend nothing happened and act like everything is fine when you wish –." He stopped there because he didn't want to say it in front of Chris again.

"You wish you were dead." Chris supplied anyway.

"I can't help it." Vin was afraid he'd make Chris angry. "I wish I didn't wish it. But I also can't see living like this for the next sixty years."

"You don't have to pretend nothing happened, and you don't have to act like everything is fine." Chris sounded a little annoyed, but at himself more than at Vin.

"If I gave in to how I really feel, I'd be a screaming wreck every seventeen minutes on average." Vin said. Then he broached a subject that'd been on his mind since they left work. "How come you think she talked to me?" He didn't often discuss women with Chris. He'd mention if he had a date if Chris asked what he was doing on a particular weekend. Later on when Chris would ask how a particular lady was, Vin would tell him they weren't dating anymore. Never much more than that.

Frankly, he didn't think Chris was all that good with any woman who wasn't Mary.

"Because she cared you'd been hurt and wanted to know how you were doing?" Chris answered his question.

"I guess she must not have read my chart." That seemed the most likely scenario to Vin. If she _had_ read his chart, she would've walked to the other side of the campus to avoid him, not come right up to him and asked how he was doing. "She seems to have the same opinion of Nathan and Rain that I do though."

"You think she wouldn't talk to you if she knew?"

"No, I don't think she would. _I_ wouldn't talk to me if I was somebody else and I knew what happened, even if I wasn't the me it happened to."

"Gee, I guess _willing_ the drugs into your system does work." Chris said after a moment.

"There's that Viagra sarcasm again." Vin picked up the bottle of painkillers and shook it. He was getting dangerously low. "Figures it'd be my luck that a pretty girl with a sense of humor would show some interest in me right when I'm starting my sexual identity crisis." But then Chris looked kind of uncomfortable after he said that, so he tried to change the subject.

"I guess I'll have to brave Rain and get this refilled tomorrow." Indicating the bottle in his hand.

"Vin – if a woman is raped, it doesn't make her more feminine, does it?" Chris asked. He was solemn and serious.

"Uhh, no." Vin set the bottle down next to the other one. Then he minutely rearranged them and attempted to memorize the grain pattern of the top of the desk. Anything to keep from looking at Chris. "I just think it isn't as bad for a woman as it is for me. I know that's as stupid and prejudiced as Ezra and JD thinking I wanted this to happen. And God help me, I don't wish this happened to Maria. I just wish it hadn't happened to _me_."

to be continued


	68. Chapter 68

_Vin wished he was dead._

That just didn't come together for Chris, as he watched Vin trying to decide which if either he should take of painkillers or muscle relaxants. How could a man just calmly sitting there, taking a drink of ice water, be thinking about killing himself?

If Chris asked him a question, Vin would answer it. If he told him about a problem at work, he would help Chris sort it out. If he told Vin that Mary had tickets to the Irish Tenors and did Vin want to go – well, he'd probably stare at Chris a long time like he only just realized Chris had two heads.

But it would still be Vin being Vin.

How could he just be sitting there wishing he was dead?

Why didn't he just _not_ wish he was dead?

It seemed Vin couldn't make up his mind which drug to take. He'd pick one bottle up, study the label, and then set it down again to repeat the action with the other bottle. He was in pain, there was no doubt. Chris could figure it was really bad though when the potential emotional pain was worse than the immediate physical pain.

"You gonna take one of those?" Chris knew Vin was afraid of what might happen _again_. Afraid of one more humiliation tacked onto the dozens he'd suffered so far.

"Maybe if I just took a hot bath it would feel better and I wouldn't have to take any drugs?" Vin sounded like he was asking permission.

"Imagine how good doing both might feel."

"I might fall asleep in the tub." Vin said, and Chris couldn't tell if it was a threat or a fear. He didn't know what to say. He knew Vin wasn't whining, these weren't the idle complaints of a man with shallow hurts and nothing better to do. Still – Chris was used to fixing things: the car, the washing machine, problems at work. He was used to confronting a problem, assessing it, and _solving_ it.

This problem had no easy solution. If it had any solution at all.

Well dammit, everything had a solution. It was just a matter of figuring out what the problem was.

"You're in pain?"

"_Yeah_." Vin answered on a long breath of resignation. He held the bottle of painkillers in his hand.

"Is it a muscle spasm?"

"No, not anymore. Doesn't feel like anyway."

"So, you don't really need a muscle relaxant right now."

"I s'pose not."

"You sound like maybe you'd rather take one." Chris said.

"Nahh." Vin set the bottle down on the desk. "I was just thinking how nice it would be to be unconscious again."

"_Vin_." Chris said it distinctly and deliberately, wanting Vin's full attention. When he had it, he continued. "You wish you were dead. Are you planning on doing anything to make that happen?"

"_No_." Vin sounded surprised – and honest. "I don't like wishing I was dead. I wish I didn't wish it. I can't help wishing it. But I wouldn't do anything to make it happen. I wouldn't. But do you know what this feels like? I feel like I've spent the whole last week either up here in this room or out on your back deck. I feel like every minute something is sneaking up behind me ready to grab me. I dread having to use the bathroom. I feel dirty, no matter how many showers I take, no matter if I scrub my skin raw. I feel – I feel like every step I take, every move, every decision asks something of you, or takes something away from you. Like my every word is a complaint, my every reaction is fear, and my every movement is to hide behind you. I'm afraid that it'll be too much."

So they were back to that. Maybe they had never left '_that'_ – Vin's persistent fear that he would drive Chris away.

"Do you know what it feels like for me?" Chris asked, and then Vin did give him the two-headed stare.

"Excuse me for asking, but am I _supposed_ to care what this feels like for you?" He asked back, and Chris smiled at Vin's flat expression and even flatter tone of voice.

"No, you don't have to care. But I do want you to understand." He became serious. Finally, for the moment anyway, this was a problem he could and would attack head on. "This isn't like when Buck complains that Inez won't give him the time of day. Or when Rain kept harping on that other doctor who got the Fellowship over her. Or when JD finished whatever crossword puzzle that was in record time, and I wished they would just _shut up._ I don't want you to shut up. I want to be able to help you, and it bothers me when I can't figure out what that is. But don't ever _ever_ feel that you're too much. If I can listen to JD crow, and Buck whine, and Rain grouse over _nothing_ - I'll sure never walk away from you."

Vin stared at him, in doubt, fear, or relief – Chris didn't really care which one it was as long as the message was getting through.

"_Are we clear on that?_"

His answer was a very brief, rather shaky nod, and Vin turned his head down to stare at his hands in his lap. Chris wondered if he had cowed him into silence. After a moment, a soft but plainly grieved voice said,

"You don't have to yell at me."

"I'm not yelling." Chris said. OK, maybe he was a little, but he wanted Vin to understand.

"All you had to do was tell me." Vin went on, a little _too_ grieved, and Chris got the idea he wasn't entirely serious.

"I'm _not_ yelling."

"I'm hurt you know, I'm not stupid. Maybe you shouldn't double up on that Viagra. Just makes you cranky. Not like it's my fault Mary won't be home for another couple hours…"

At first Chris was thrilled that Vin was joshing him and he was just about to give him a good shake – but that would hurt his back. Then he thought he might whack him on the head – but that would hurt his stitches. He'd tell Vin he should take a painkiller, but Vin wanted to take enough drugs to be unconscious. Finally, Chris though he could suggest that Vin come downstairs and have something to eat, but Vin didn't want to eat anything because he didn't want to have to use the bathroom.

_Vin wished he was dead._

Chris didn't feel so thrilled anymore.

So he just let his frustration out on a long breath and gave a stern look to the lighthearted one he was getting from Vin, remembering how Vin accused _Ezra_ of talking a crooked line.

"_You're welcome."_ Chris said, answering what he knew Vin had really been saying.

*/*/*/*

Mary called to say she'd be late, so for a little while it was Chris and Billy alone in the kitchen getting dinner started. Vin had taken a hot bath and two painkillers and was asleep in the top bunk up in his room. Billy sat on the kitchen table next to the bowl where Chris mixed up the ingredients for his "special" hamburgers. Cowboy waited very expectantly at Chris' feet for anything that might fall.

"Dad?"

"Yeah?"

"Is Vin okay?"

"Uh, well, yeah. Sure he is." With his hands thick with raw eggs and hamburger, Chris used his forearm to brush the hair back off his forehead. He wished he hadn't sounded so surprised by that question.

"He doesn't look okay."

"Well, he's in a lot of pain."

"But if he's in a lot of pain then he's not okay."

Why did children have to see things so clearly?

"A person can be in pain and still be okay."

"But he doesn't look okay."

_The tenacity he gets from his mothe,_ Chris thought.

"He's in a lot of pain." He repeated. Billy audibly huffed, and scowled at his father.

_And that he gets from me._

Chris always knew he'd have to tell Billy about the facts of life; he just never thought it would be these facts in this lifetime.

"You know Vin's friend Maria?" he asked. Billy nodded. "Last Friday, some teenagers tried to hurt her and when Vin tried to stop them, they beat him up. There was three of them and he couldn't -." Couldn't what? Get away? Make them stop? " – Maria got away safe, but they hurt Vin." Chris thought it would be too much to tell Billy about cracked ribs and a broken spine. "He's got a lot of bruises and stitches in his scalp, so he's in pain."

"But how come why did they beat up him when they were the ones being mean and somebody shoulda been mean right back to them?" Billy asked.

"Because they're bullies." Chris said, using an image he figured Billy would understand. "Because they figured they could get away with it and they did."

"But that's not fair. They shouldn't do that. Somebody should be mean to them."

"And hopefully someday somebody will be mean to them." Chris said, and thought to himself _God-willing that somebody will be me._

to be continued


	69. Chapter 69

Vin wondered if he should be worried that sleep felt so good. Especially when he knew it wasn't the well-deserved rest of a hard day's work, but only the result of swallowing two bitter tablets with half a glass of ice water. But it did feel really good to be lying in the top bunk of Chris' bunk bed, with the fan cooling the room off, and the sound of summer going on outside the window. His back didn't hurt at the moment, the bed was comfortable – and nothing unpleasant had happened.

Given the usual course of the painkillers, he'd been asleep probably two hours. That might make it dinner time. Which was good because he was getting hungry. Which was bad because he didn't want to eat.

Didn't life just get better and better?

He ran his hand over his face to scrub the sleep away, stretched as much as he dared, and turned onto his side to contemplate either getting up or staying where he was. He felt his nose run and he wiped his hand across. Great, he was probably getting a late summer cold too. His hand came away bloody though, a dark smear from his knuckles to the back of his thumb.

_Great_.

He managed to climb down off the bunk bed while keeping his already bloody hand pressed against his nose. More than anything else, he worried about getting blood on Chris' shirt. Chris was nice enough to let him keep wearing it twenty four hours out of every day, he didn't want to give it back to him dirty.

When he did give it back to him.

Vin found tissues in the bathroom and in a few minutes his nosebleed had stopped. He washed his face and washed his hands and gave himself a long look in the mirror. The bruises under his eyes were just about gone, and they might just be exaggerated by exhaustion anyway. Even without those bruises and that exhaustion, he didn't look like he remembered himself looking before. He looked older, and worn down. What did Chris say today? He'd have to be dead to feel as bad as he looked.

So, how did he feel?

He felt – well _bad_ wouldn't begin to cover it. Horrible, empty, doomed, worthless, filthy, wrung out and wasted might begin to cover it. But then he'd also have to add weak, powerless, ineffectual, frightened, spineless and cowering.

Alone too. He couldn't forget alone. Even if Chris and Buck and even Mary were looking out for him, he was still in this by himself. Even if he wanted to, even if he tried, he could never explain to them what precisely happened and why and what he was going through now on account of it. They could say they were sorry, they could keep an eye on his eating habits and his fledgling drug habit, they could do anything and everything they wanted to do for him or with him or to him – but they would never be a part of what happened to him. The pain, the shame, the fear, the long term physical consequences. They were all his alone.

Vin sat on the edge of the tub and put his head in his hands. He sat there a long long while.

"So, how was he today?" Buck asked. He and Chris were on the back deck, grilling the hamburgers and setting up the picnic table for dinner.

"It was not a good day." Chris told him. "For most of the day, everything was _'fine'_, then he got sick after lunch, and he still wishes he was dead."

"Sick how?"

"Sick – uhh –." Chris took a fast glance around to make sure Billy was out of earshot. "It – hurt." Buck nodded and Chris was grateful that he seemed to understand what they were talking about without having to elaborate. And then Buck elaborated for him.

"Was there blood?"

"I don't know, I didn't ask." Chris said, sounding a little more cranky than he intended. "I asked him if he wanted me to get Nathan and he said he'd rather catch on fire." Then fortunately, Buck let the matter drop again.

"Did you get that other little matter cleared up? About what you think about why this happened to him?"

"Yeah, I think so." Chris shut the lid on the gas grill and sat on the top step of the deck. Buck sat on the picnic bench a few feet away on the lawn. "I think I figured it out and I think I got him to understand."

"What'd you say to him?"

Chris debated telling Buck exactly what he'd told Vin. It made him sound too smart or too noble, too _something_. He shrugged noncommittally. "I told him that anybody – including me – who thinks he's less of a man isn't much of a man himself. That being – _raped,_" he practically whispered the word, "doesn't make him less of a man anymore than it makes a woman more feminine."

"Wow – where did that come from?"

"I have no idea." Chris admitted, feeling slightly embarrassed. "They just came out when I was talking to him. You know, I'm worried about those painkillers he's taking. He falls asleep after every dose. That can't be right. It can't be good for him."

"Hmm…I wonder if he should get a second opinion? An _objective_ second opinion. Seems like Rain thinks nothing is wrong, and Nathan thinks _everything_ is wrong. I wouldn't be against Vin seeing another doctor."

"I'll mention it to him." Chris stood up to check the grill and the hamburgers. "That Dr. Hyde at his apartment building seems like a good guy. He might be okay."

"You mean _after_ you run the background check on him?" Buck asked, laughter in his voice. Chris almost objected then remembered Buck knew him even better than he knew himself.

"Background check, fingerprints, medical license review, and his grades from high school if at all possible. I'm not risking Vin where I don't have to."

Buck didn't say anything and Chris finally turned to find Buck watching him with an amused expression on his face.

"What?"

"Nothing. Just nice to see you in protective mode."

"He needs to be protected Buck. He needs – a lot more than he's been getting out of life recently."

"Yes he does." Buck stood up and finished laying out the paper plates and plastic knives and forks. "I'm glad he's got you to take care of him."

*/*/*/*+

When Vin finally did come downstairs a half hour or so later, Buck was coming from the kitchen headed for the sliding glass doors and the backyard.

"Hey, we were about to come get you. Supper's just about ready. Mary's working late so Chris is chief cook tonight. C'mon out, we've got ice tea and lemonade out there."

"Okay. Um – Buck? Can I ask you something?"

"Sure." Buck stopped dead in his tracks and gave Vin his full, concerned attention. "Chris said you weren't feeling well today, is everything okay?"

"I'm okay. I was just wondering…" he trailed off, trying to think of what he wanted to ask, and how he could ask it without sounding stupid. "There was a girl who talked to me at work today. A woman. She's the x-ray tech for Rain and Nathan." He stopped there, not sure how to go on.

"Sooo – what's your question?"

"Why did she talk to me?"

"Why wouldn't she talk to you?"

"Because." Vin gestured towards himself. "I needed a shave, I was dressed like this, I must've looked tired."

"Well Vin, some women prefer the scruffy sort."

"I was beyond scruffy. I was – I was –." He was more things than he wanted to say.

Buck crossed his arms and lowered his voice. "Do you think she knows you were raped? Is that why you're wondering why she talked to you?"

"Yeah. Sort of." Then Vin thought about it and sighed. "No, a girl like her, even before I was attacked I'd be wondering why she was talking to me. But still – yeah. She must've read my chart. She must have some idea. Why would she talk to me?"

"Why _wouldn't_ she talk to you?" Buck asked again. Vin knew he didn't have an answer that would satisfy Buck, so he didn't say anything. Buck asked, "What did she talk to you about?"

"She asked how I was feeling and said I was the nicest person she's worked with and that when I have my stitches out," he indicated his scalp, "I should stop back and say hi. We – me and Chris – were in the parking lot, getting ready to go home. She was walking by."

"So she seems like a nice person?"

"Yeah."

"Pretty?"

"Oh yeah."

"So why are you worrying about it?"

"Because." Here came the stupid part, Vin knew. "I don't want to hope for something that doesn't exist. I want to know why of all the times in my life a pretty girl would talk to me it has to be now."

Buck started to answer, then didn't say anything and seemed to be considering it. Vin wished he'd never said anything. Buck wouldn't understand. Buck never had a problem talking to women, and the only time he worried was when a woman _didn't_ talk to him. How could Vin expect him to understand what it felt like?

"No, never mind. It doesn't matter. Forget I asked. C'mon -." Vin started to walk to the sliding glass doors, but Buck stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

"Vin, I can't tell you exactly why she talked to you. I can tell you that most likely she had a chance to talk with you while she was doing your x-rays and she found something there that she liked well enough to care how you're doing and ask when she saw you outside of the clinic. Does it mean you're going to get married? No. Does it mean you might go on a date, maybe. Does it mean that you are a man who deserves to have a nice, pretty woman talk to him? Yes, definitely. So that's all you need to go with right now. Don't jump ahead and worry about what might or might not go wrong. You don't read the last page of a book first do you?"

"Actually…I do." Vin said. What Buck told him made sense, and made him feel a little better. Leastways, he could stop worrying about it right now.

"You read the last page first." Buck said. He seemed more incredulous at that than Vin worrying about Amanda.

"Yeah, I want to know who's going to be alive or dead by the time I get to the end. I don't like -." He stopped abruptly, but had to say it anyway " – nasty surprises."

Buck looked at him a minute, then gave him a brief but warm hug. "We're going to get you through this Vin." He said. "I promise, the last page of this book says 'Happy Ending'."

to be continued


	70. Chapter 70

"I'll get it!" Billy raced into the house, with Cowboy expectantly on his heels. Vin watched him for the third time jump up and hurry to take care of something Vin needed. First it was a glass of water to take a painkiller, then he dropped his fork into the grass and needed a new one, now he'd asked Chris if they had mustard without horseradish in it.

"Chris you know better than to give that boy sugar." Buck said from the other end of the picnic table.

"He didn't have sugar, he's just been – helpful." Chris said.

"Only helping Vin, seems like. I asked if you had hot sauce and I had to get it myself."

Vin stared down at his plate while a sickening thought took hold of him. It couldn't be – Chris wouldn't – would he?

"Vin?" he heard Buck trying to get his attention, but he turned to Chris instead, sitting across the table from him.

"You told him, didn't you?" Vin asked. Even Buck seemed surprised at the question and turned a sharp look on Chris.

"No, I didn't tell him what happened. I told him -." But Chris was cut off by Billy's noisy reappearance.

"Here it is! I got it!" He plopped himself and the squeeze jar of mustard down next to Vin. "I'm taking care of you!" He said proudly.

"Yeah you are." Vin agreed. "How come?"

"'Cause Dad said you got hurt by bullies taking care of Maria and that's just mean and somebody should be mean back to them and…"

The rest of Billy's proclamation was drowned out by the nausea that suddenly overtook Vin. He'd only eaten a little bit of his French fries and macaroni salad but he was in serious danger of losing that. He stood up fast and tried to get into the house before he got sick.

"_Vin_?" Three voices followed him into the family room and he could hear Billy asking, "How come he left?" but he couldn't hear Buck's answer.

By the time Vin got to the half bathroom, the acute feeling of sickness had passed, so he went back to the kitchen to sit at the table and try to catch his breath. Chris wasn't far behind but he'd hardly set foot into the kitchen and Vin couldn't take anymore.

"_Just leave me alone, will you_?" he snarled. It seemed to catch Chris off guard, but it wasn't enough to make him leave.

"Are you all right?"

"No! I'm not all right. What d'you think? Nothing is all right. Everything keeps getting less and less all right the longer I keep going." A few seconds passed, and Vin rested his head on his arm on the table. Maybe he could just get out of here and go – somewhere. Not home, he didn't think he could stand being alone in his apartment. He could go – no, not to Nettie's. Not to JD's. Not to Ezra's. Buck was here. That left Josiah but it was Thursday night and on Thursday nights Josiah had the AA meetings in the parish hall.

Vin sighed, but it sounded more like a moan.

"I didn't tell Billy what happened. " Chris said. "Only that you got beat up because you helped Maria." He paused, but Vin didn't answer him. "I didn't tell him – _that_. He's too young to understand all of that."

"Would you have told him if he _wasn't_ too young?" Vin asked, looking up at Chris.

"I don't know." Chris said after a little thought. "Before this, it never occurred to me that I might have to tell him about – things like this."

"Great, now I'm the poster child for progressive parenting." It sounded snotty, and he realized he meant it to. "I have to get out of here." But there was nowhere to go. He stood up from the table, but he knew there was nowhere to go. "What'd you have to tell him anything for?" Vin knew, even as he asked it, that Billy would've asked Chris about his black eyes and why he was living with them now.

"He could see you're hurt. I tried to tell him you were fine but he didn't believe me."

"Yeah." Vin muttered an agreement. "Yeah, I know." He sat back down at the table. He had nowhere else to go.

"You gonna come back out and eat?" Chris asked and Vin just shook his head. "Want me to bring it in here for you?"

"I don't know. Maybe I'll come out. I don't know."

Chris waited and Vin didn't know what to say to him. If he went back out, he didn't think he'd be able to eat anything. If Chris brought it back in to him, well he didn't think he could still eat anything even if he was by himself. But he didn't want to be by himself. But he didn't want to be around anybody either.

"Did your parents ever -." He started to ask Chris, but he didn't quite know how he was going to ask it. The painkiller was kicking in, and he could feel the exhaustion settling heavy over his eyes. "If somebody ever tried to take something from you, did they tell you what you should do about it?"

Well, it was a confusing question to ask, so it was probably a confusing to hear, so Vin went on, trying to explain.

"When I was in high school, the beginning of my junior year, just after my Dad died, I was living with my Aunt Diane. I don't know if she was really my aunt, really. I think she was my Mom's brother's second wife who had been married a couple times after she divorced him anyway. Anyway, she was the closest relative they could find for me. Like that was any great shakes. But anyway, the start of my junior year, some kid stole my backpack. I saw him carrying it walking to the bus stop and I grabbed it back from him and we got into a fight. Not a big fight, just a couple of punches and some shoving. But when I told Aunt Diane, she told me nothing I had was worth fighting over. You know what I mean?"

He looked up, hoping Chris had followed him through the long story. It seemed he had, he was leaning on his hands on the back of a chair, watching Vin intently.

"It was like she was saying that I should just let anybody have anything of mine they wanted because nothing I have is worth anything anyway."

"Do you believe her?"

"Sometimes. Especially now. Y'know? Like it wasn't the things I owned that were worthless, it was the fact that _I_ owned them that made them worthless. So now I feel that way a million times more."

"Where's your Aunt Diane now?" Chris asked.

"Why?"

"Because I'd like to go run her down with my truck."

*/*/*/*

Nettie thought at first that she'd make some of Vin's favorite chocolate oatmeal cookies, then tomorrow she'd bring them to the campus and they could have a talk and get everything straightened out. Then she thought she should make Cowboy Coffeecake instead, and get some drive-thru tea on the way over there and they could sit on one of the benches on the Green and talk and get everything straightened out.

Sitting there, in her dining room, in one of her upholstered rocking chairs, holding her favorite picture of Vin, Nettie knew that if she could just get Vin to sit down and talk with her, they could get everything straightened out and she wouldn't feel so miserable anymore.

Finally, she decided to just do it. She put down the picture, picked up her keys, went to her car and drove to Chris Larabee's house.

*/*/*/*

Well, Chris got Vin to come back out and try to eat his dinner. He could see that Vin was making a brave if mechanical attempt at it. He could also see that Billy was busting to ask what was going on but Buck must've warned him off because he was only shooting looks down to Vin and not saying anything. The silence was awkward and getting uncomfortable and Chris looked over at Buck, hoping he might have something to get a conversation going. But Buck only looked as desperate as Chris was feeling.

Just as Chris was about to make up some maintenance problem at work that he could ask Vin about, he heard a car pulling up the driveway. It wasn't Mary's car, or her parents' car, and it didn't sound like any of their friends' cars.

"I wonder who that is." He started to ask, but he was stopped by the look on Vin's face. He'd gone pale and his eyes were wide with fear.

"_Nettie_." He said.

to be continued


	71. Chapter 71

The backyard fell silent. Even Cowboy stood in place, his eyes on Chris and one ear cocked toward the sounds out front. Vin stood up from the picnic table; Chris and Buck followed.

"Make her go away." Vin whispered. "_Make her go away make her go away make her go away_." He didn't want to face her. He couldn't face her. He'd have to say he was sorry and he didn't want to say he was sorry even if he _was_ sorry for something that was never his fault to start with.

Buck made the first move. "Chris – take Vin inside, I'll go around the front of the house and head Nettie off." He headed in that direction.

"Don't you want to see Nettie?" Billy asked and nobody answered him. "Why don't you want to see Nettie?"

"_Because I don't._" Vin's short-tempered reply surprised everyone, including himself. He looked to Chris for the help he just knew wasn't possible.

"Come on, we'll go upstairs. Buck can send her on her way."

Vin wanted to disappear. He wanted the earth to swallow him up so he'd feel invisible and safe. Inside the house was too close to where Nettie stood at the front door. Outside was too accessible to her walking around to the back.

Lord, Vin wished he was dead.

Chris put a firm hand on his shoulder and spoke deliberately. "We'll go in the house and you can go upstairs. You don't have to see her. You go upstairs and I'll let you know when it's safe." When Vin didn't move he added, "Come on, I'll go with you."

So Vin nodded, and they walked to the deck and into the house, with Billy silent but sticking close by and Cowboy trotting ahead to the partially open inside front door. Before Chris could call him back, the dog has pushed open the door and stood wagging his tail eagerly at the two people on the front porch.

Vin stopped short but still found himself only six feet away from Nettie, with just the screen door between them. She was saying '_I just want to talk to him Buck, I need to apologize_' and Buck was answering '_He needs time Nettie_' and she looked up and held Vin's gaze for a long moment before speaking to him.

"Vin honey – I'm sorry. I don't know when I got so old and stupid but I wouldn't hurt you for the world. You know that. I don't – well I just don't have any excuse honey. Losing you would kill me, but if that's what you want..." She seemed to have trouble finishing the thought. Vin took a step closer to the door.

"It's not what I want." He said softly. "What I want is just for you to understand. All I want _from anybody_ is just that they understand I didn't want this to happen and _for God's sake_ it's not my fault." If they could just get past the awkwardness and anger and go back to being friends, just like they were, Vin thought he might never be unhappy again. Just let everything go back the way it was.

"I understand that, Vin, I do understand that."

Vin pushed on the latch of the screen door with a hand he was surprised to see was shaking and walked out to stand near Nettie. Buck made a smooth exit into the house and he and Chris left the immediate area, with Billy being pulled out of sight a second later. Vin shoved his hands in his pockets and took a step back to lean his shoulder against a porch upright. He looked down at his sneakers.

"Losing you would kill me too Nettie. It _did_ kill me 'cause I thought I _did_ lose you. Of everybody in the world, you were the last person I thought would walk away from me on this. I mean – I never wanted you to know what happened. I never wanted anybody to know, but I thought - when JD told you, I woulda thought -."

"JD didn't tell me." Nettie said. Vin looked up.

"Well, Casey then." He wondered what difference it made.

"Nobody told me, Vin."

"Wellll – how did you find out then?" He wracked his brain but couldn't think of how she would've known otherwise.

"I was in your apartment, honey." She said it like it was an apology. Something like resentment flared up in Vin.

"When?" he asked. "When were you in my apartment?"

"Saturday. When you didn't answer the phone and I couldn't find you I got worried. I didn't know if you were sick and couldn't get to the phone, I didn't know -."

Vin didn't bother to wonder why Nettie's admission made him so damn angry, he just let himself feel it.

"So, when I was at the clinic and you called Chris' cell phone and I was talking to you – you were in my apartment then? You said you weren't but you were there? Why the hell did you lie to me?"

By the look on Nettie's face, she knew this conversation had gone south, but didn't know why. "I thought you didn't want me to be in your apartment and –."

"That's right, I _didn't_. But there you were anyway -."

*/*/*/*

Inside the house, just as Buck was saying, "Thank God that impasse is all over," and Chris was agreeing, they heard shouting from the front porch. Chris told Billy to stay put and he and Buck went to see what the matter was.

"_NO! Stay away from me."_ Vin was yelling at Nettie. _"You're a damn liar and you stay away from me. I don't care if I never see you again. Just get the hell away from me."_

Buck went to Nettie and tried to tactfully steer her back to her car, but she looked too stunned to understand anything but that Vin was cursing her and driving her away. Chris went to Vin and tried to get him to calm down.

"What happened?" he asked. He kept his voice quiet.

"_She lied!_" Vin shouted again, aiming his remark at Nettie. _"She knew and she lied!"_

"Lied about what?" Chris asked, still trying to stay calm. "What did she lie about?"

"_She – she -."_ Suddenly, blood poured from Vin's nose.

*/*/*/*

Mary got home late from work to find a bizarre event taking place on her front steps. Buck stood between Chris and Nettie, apparently trying to keep Chris from doing harm to the woman as he yelled and gestured at her. Buck wasn't touching Chris but he was keeping his hands up as though to block the angry gestures. Nettie stood behind Buck, saying something Mary couldn't hear over Chris, but her own expression and gestures were of regret and apology. Billy crouched against the porch wall near the front door with Cowboy right next to him. And then Mary saw Vin, sitting on the low front step, leaning forward with blood dripping from between the hands he had pressed over his nose.

Since no one else was taking care of Vin, she went there first.

"Vin – sit back. You have to put your head back." She dug Kleenex out of her purse. Vin didn't move.

"How come Dad is yelling at Nettie?" Billy asked and Cowboy pulled out of his grasp to run and greet Mary.

"I don't know. Vin, put your head back." She knelt down next to Vin to have a better look but he didn't move. She had to push Cowboy away from licking her face.

"Nettie told Vin she was sorry and then they were talking and then he was yelling and Dad started yelling after Vin started bleeding and Nettie said she's sorry but what's she sorry for?"

"I don't know Billy. Vin put your head back. Cowboy get out of the way. Vin put your head back." She couldn't get him to move, Cowboy was determined to be fussed over, and the confrontation on the front lawn was beginning to irritate her.

"How come Dad's mad?"

"I don't know Billy." She was beginning to grit her teeth. "Vin – put your head back."

"How come he wants Nettie to go to 'heck'?"

"_I don't know Billy_" Finally when she could hardly hear herself think over the din, Mary stood up and shouted, "_That's enough!_" She was rewarded with immediate silence. "_You_." She pointed at Nettie. "Leave. _You_." She pointed at Buck. "Get her to her car."

She turned to Chris. "_You_ – get over here and help Vin. Billy – take Cowboy into the house." Her orders were carried out rather quickly. She had one left.

"Vin - _**put your head back**__._"

He looked up, eyes wide in surprise. Then he put his head back.

to be continued


	72. Chapter 72

Vin sat on the edge of the lower bunk of the bunk bed. He wouldn't cry. He wouldn't cry. He wouldn't cry.

He cried anyway.

He tried to find a clean spot on the bloody Kleenex to wipe his eyes, but he couldn't find one and the tears rolled down his face. Nettie was gone. The one person who meant so much to him and she was gone.

Not that the other people in his life didn't mean so much, or even more. Nettie just – filled some spot in his life and his soul. Maybe because he'd lost his Mom so young and never had another one and Nettie filled that spot.

But now that spot was a gaping wound that would never go away.

Vin had to get away from everybody. He'd come up here to hide as soon as his nosebleed stopped, but this wasn't far enough away. He didn't want anybody to see him crying. He didn't want them to know how bad it hurt him, and there'd be no way they could comfort him anyway. Buck could say he knew Nettie didn't hate Vin, but he had the proof right there right now, didn't he? She'd hate him now and there'd be no taking it back.

He had to get out of the house. He wanted to throw up. He wanted to be unconscious…he thought about the bottles of painkillers and muscle relaxants in his pocket. How many would he have to take to permanently forget what an absolute jerk he was?

Growing up he never had friends, except the other geeky losers who seemed to clump together when no clique would let them in. Growing up he lived on a street that had no kids at his end, and in school he was the shy, quiet kid who was an easy mark for bullies and tormentors. The teachers told him he was "too sensitive." His father told him to "ignore them". Aunt Diane never cared about Vin's problems, she was always too busy expecting him to solve hers.

Why did it always seem to come back to him sitting alone, feeling like his heart had been ripped out?

He took the medicine bottles out of his shirt pocket and for one truly scary moment he let himself imagine what it would be like to never feel anything again, not physical pain or emotional torment. To just not feel anything. He opened the bottles and poured the tablets out into this hand.

It would be so easy. He could swallow them all and go to sleep and what happened after that would be somebody else's problem.

His hand shook and his vision blurred, thinking just how easy it would be.

*/*/*/*

Chris and Buck were out front with bleach and water, scrubbing the steps and sidewalk clean of Vin's blood. Nettie had gone home and Billy was in the yard playing distractedly with Cowboy. Mary carried a huge glass of water, a bottle of orange juice, and a packet of cookies upstairs to Vin. She didn't think he'd lost a pint of blood with that nosebleed, but he sure had lost a lot, and since he refused to go to the hospital, she decided to treat him as though he'd donated blood. Maybe orange juice and cookies, and a sympathetic ear, would calm his ragged nerves.

Aside from what he was going through already, Mary guessed that Vin had never had a real argument with any of his friends, least of all Nettie. He'd had disagreements with Chris over politics, movies, sports, and what did or did not constitute appropriate toppings for a pizza, but it was never anything serious. Certainly nothing that ever drove a wedge between them.

But this incident with Nettie worried Mary. Nettie was more than a mother to Vin. She was a mother, grandmother, teacher, friend, mentor, counselor and safe harbor for him. If he lost that – or even only _thought_ he lost that - Mary thought it would drive him to despair. He didn't need any more pain, especially that one, right now.

She stepped up to Vin's open door – just in time to see him stuff a handful of pills into his mouth. Her initial terror at his apparent suicide attempt quickly changed to relief a second later as he proceeded to spit the pills out again. He saw her at that moment. His eyes widened with fear and his face darkened with shame.

Apparently there were a few pills that wouldn't come out as he tried unsuccessfully to spit again. Mary brought him the glass of water and ordered, "Rinse and spit. Do not swallow."

"The floor?" he asked, his question blurred by the obstinate pills.

"I don't care. Just do it." Mary snapped.

*/*/*/*

Mary was yelling at him. Vin was astounded: Mary was yelling at him. Afraid not to do what she told him, he swished his mouth with as little water as possible and spit the last few pills out into his hand. The water dripped through his fingers onto his jeans.

"I'm sorry." He whispered. He meant for the mess. Mary set orange juice and cookies onto the desk and knelt in front of Vin.

"It's really not the end of the world." She told him as she started picking up the pills.

"I know – I'll clean it up."

That was apparently not the right answer as Mary huffed out a breath and closed her eyes as though praying for strength. "Not the pills on the floor Vin – _the pills that were in your mouth_. You're angry. You're upset with Nettie, and upset with yourself. It's not worth risking this." She indicated the scattering of damp medication on the floor.

"It's not – I'm not – I didn't –." A sudden chill shot through Vin. "Everything I touch turns to rot." He waited for her – expected her – to immediately and firmly deny any such nonsense. Instead she stood and glowered down at him.

"You know what Vin Tanner? You're not stupid." She still sounded angry. "Everything you touch does _not_ turn to rot and you know it. I know you're upset and you have every right to be. But you also have friends and you can't just disregard us when the mood suits you."

"_I know_." Vin offered. Another chill ran up his back. Mary seemed to notice it but she didn't comment on it.

"Now – you're here and you need to be taken care of and I'm going to take care of you whether you like it or not. Have you got that?"

If Vin felt better, he'd josh Mary, saying she'd been spending too much time around Chris. Instead he stared at the spreading stain of water under his fingers. He should've swallowed the pills when he had the chance. He didn't want to answer; he wanted Mary to go away. He shivered again. Great, he was getting chills too.

When he didn't answer, Mary bent down again and began retrieving the scattered tablets from the carpet.

"I'll put these somewhere they can dry out, see what we can salvage." At least she didn't sound angry anymore. She took the bigger empty bottle from where it sat on the bunk next to Vin and dumped them all in. Last she took the really soggy ones out of his hand, but she didn't put those in with the rest.

He thought – hoped – she'd leave then but she sat down next to him. Vin kept his head ducked and tried hard not to make contact with her.

"You have friends, Vin." She said. "Friends who'll do anything for you. And all of us – every single one of us would rather you asked for help you weren't sure you needed than have you suffer along in darkness and confusion. We're here Vin, don't shut us out."

"Okay." He prayed she'd leave now. He was freezing cold and shivering, and he wanted nothing more than to wrap himself in every blanket he could get his hands on. The sooner she left the sooner he could lay down and try to drown out every memory of this day. _Leave leave leave,_ he silently urged her. She wouldn't see him cry. Vin swore to himself that she wouldn't see him cry, but if she stayed here one second longer, sounded concerned and caring, he wasn't going to be able to keep that promise to himself.

Finally, thank God, finally Mary stood up. "Drink the water and the orange juice, and eat the cookies." She told him. "It'll make you feel better."

"Yeah." He couldn't even summon the energy or desire to thank her.

When she was gone, he set the water on the desk top next to the orange juice, and shoved the other empty medicine bottle and cap into a desk drawer. He found the bloody Kleenex behind himself and threw that into the wastebasket. He was still shivering and it felt like it was getting worse. Maybe a hot shower would help. If he could stand upright long enough to accomplish that. Maybe he could just crawl under the covers and hide.

Maybe he could just find where Mary was putting the drugs and try again.

While he rummaged through all his impossible options, he heard footsteps coming up the stairs. For a second it sounded the way his Dad's footsteps used to sound, whenever he came upstairs to check on Vin for whatever reason. The sound and the memory brought tears to his eyes again.

He wouldn't cry. He wouldn't cry. He wouldn't cry. He knew the footsteps were Chris and he would not cry again in front of Chris. He managed to become calm a split second before Chris came through the door. He was carrying a bottle and Vin had a moment of hope and concern that it was his drugs. But it wasn't.

"Iron tablets." Chris explained without needing to be asked. "Mary thought you mighta made yourself anemic bleeding that way."

"She yelled at me." Vin complained. After a moment's consideration, and with a decade of experience, Chris asked:

"Did you deserve it?"

"Well I didn't get a nose bleed on purpose, you know."

Chris set the bottle on the desk and pulled the chair out to sit in front of Vin.

"Why does it matter _when_ Nettie found out what happened?" he asked.

"I don't know." Vin admitted. "It just does. It was like she was lying to me."

"Why would she lie to you?

"_I don't know."_ Vin snapped. "I don't know why the hell anybody does anything to me anymore. I just know that I was so relieved when I thought we were gonna be okay again – when she said she'd been in my apartment – I don't know. It just hurt. It was like she lied to me and it hurt me. I know I'm being a jerk. It's just like there's no more room in here –." He motioned to his head. "To be considerate."

"You don't need to be considerate." Chris told him. "If somebody slams a door on your hand, they got no right to ask you to be quiet. You want Nettie to stew in her own mistakes for awhile, you go right ahead."

"What if she doesn't deserve it?"

"What if she does?" Chris asked back, and Vin had no ready answer for him.

"Tomorrow's the week anniversary." He said instead. "Seems like years, still – I can't believe it's a week already."

"Yeah."

"Chris?"

"Yeah?"

"Tomorrow – on the way to work – tomorrow morning – can we just stop on the way at Josiah's? I really want to go to Mass tomorrow." Vin knew that Chris never attended religious services. He hastened to offer, "I can drive myself if you don't want to. You don't have to. I just – I just – really need to go."

But Chris didn't hesitate. "I'll take you, Vin. I'd be glad to."

to be continued


	73. Chapter 73

The chills got worse. Chris brought Vin a sweatshirt but sat next to him on the edge of the lower bunk before handing it to him.

"Why don't you take a hot shower? That'll warm you up faster than anything."

"Yeah." Vin had the collars of both shirts pulled tight against his shivering. "Maybe I will."

"And – Mary wants to do your laundry." Chris was trying to broach this part delicately.

"Okay."

"Including this shirt." Chris indicated his favorite shirt that Vin had been wearing for almost a week.

"It's not dirty." Vin said, pulling slightly away from Chris. "I only got a little blood on it. It's not dirty."

"No, but it wouldn't hurt to run it through once." Chris didn't tell Vin what Buck said: '_About damn time! That thing's getting a life of its own._' Vin still hesitated, so Chris tried to assure him. "It'll only take an hour total, including the dryer. In the meantime, you need something heavier anyway." Chris knew Vin couldn't deny the violent shivers that rocked his body.

"Okay." Though he seemed to take awhile to consider it. And something else. "I don't need to wear it, you know, if you want it back. I got enough of my own clothes here. If you want."

"No, you hang onto it. Just let Mary run it through the wash for you."

"Okay." More hesitation. "You want it now?"

"Whenever you're ready. Mary won't run the washing machine while you're in the shower."

"Oh yeah. That would be bad." Vin tried to laugh through a shiver.

"Are you all right?" Chris asked him. He could tell Vin had been crying, or he was exhausted, or both.

"I drove Nettie away."

"Well, yeah, you did." Chris agreed. "But maybe she deserved to get set back on her heels. And if she cares about you as much as she's ever said she does, you won't be able to drive her away permanently."

"How do you know?"

"Because – if it was possible to drive away someone who loves you that much, Mary would've left me years ago."

*/*/*/*

The shower made Vin feel warmer, but not better. This had been one long bad day. This morning he thought that just by repeating _"everything is fine"_ that everything would at least _feel_ fine, but it hadn't worked out that way. Then the fight with Chris – or maybe it was a misunderstanding? It was an argument, right? As Vin dressed himself in clean jeans and the sweatshirt Chris had given him, he was almost too tired to even think about his day.

He'd argued with Chris, got sick in the bathroom at work, had to talk with Amanda while looking worse than one of Cowboy's chew toys, then trying to get through dinner, yelling at Billy, yelling at Nettie, getting yelled at by Mary and seriously considering taking every pill he owned just to not feel all this pain anymore.

He opened the bathroom door, intending to go to bed and stay there the rest of his life, but Billy was walking down the hallway. He looked at Vin, a little wary, and went on to his own room without saying anything.

Yep, this had been one long bad day.

*/*/*/*

Chris and Buck decided to leave Mary alone in the kitchen, letting her work off her frustrations – at them – by filling the dishwasher and grumbling at them to herself. They sat out on the deck watching Cowboy amuse himself with a deflated basketball.

"How is he?" Buck asked.

"He's got chills now. Worried about Nettie. And yes – he's going to let Mary wash the shirt."

"Thank the Lord."

"It wasn't _that_ bad Buck, though I suppose another day or two wouldn't have been good."

"Especially not if he might talk to that lovely lady at work again." Buck said.

"He told you about that, hunh?"

"Yeah he did." Buck picked up the basketball that Cowboy dropped at his feet and threw it across the yard for the dog to chase after. "Having a pretty lady talk to him should've made him feel better, not worse."

"Yeah." Was all Chris said. They watched Cowboy awhile longer. "You ever wonder why bad things happen?" he asked Buck.

"Chris, I'm a cop. If I tried unraveling _that_ knot, I'd never have time to do anything else."

"Josiah told me once that God lets bad things happen so that a greater good can come of it." Chris thought about it after he said it. "I don't know if I believe him or not."

"I'd _like_ to believe him." Buck said, "But I can't say as I always see overwhelming evidence of it."

"Me either. I tell you Buck, if God can bring something good out of _this_ -." Over his shoulder he gestured to the window of Vin's room. " – I'll start going to Sunday services again."

*/*/*/*

Vin stopped in the doorway to his room. His back hurt again and he thought about asking Mary for his painkillers. He wondered if she'd give them to him. Maybe she'd give him two, that's all he took at one time anyway. Usually anyway. She wouldn't let him stay in pain, even if it did seem like she was mad at him. He turned to go downstairs just as Billy was walking down the hallway again, with that same wary look on his face.

"Hey Billy – can I talk to you a minute?"

"Yeah." But he stayed on the opposite side of the hallway, away from Vin. He seemed to be keeping his path to the staircase open just in case.

"I just wanted to say that I'm sorry if I yelled at you before. I didn't mean to. I'm not mad at you. I didn't mean to yell at you."

"Are you mad at Nettie?"

"No, I'm not even really mad at her. I'm just – mad at myself."

"How come?" Billy left his refuge across the hall and walked closer to Vin.

"Because – something happened to me that I couldn't stop and it just makes me feel bad."

"You mean those bullies hurting you 'cause you protected Maria?"

"Yeah." Vin nodded.

"How come you could stop them from hurting Maria but you couldn't stop them from hurting you?" Billy asked in all innocence and Vin thought, _that's the big question, isn't it?_

"They caught me by surprise." He skipped the explicit details. He turned and walked back into the room. Billy followed him.

"Tommy Spry knocked me down once and said I was a baby 'cause I told Miss Collins that he pinched me during story time and it hurt but I didn't cry but he said I was a baby anyway and he was a bully and he doesn't go to our school anymore and you shouldn't feel bad 'cause they were mean and you weren't and Buck says that bullies are just big stinkheads anyway."

"Yeah, they sure were big stinkheads." Vin agreed wearily as he sat himself in the desk chair. "And I know I shouldn't feel bad, but I do. I can't help it."

Billy chewed on the inside of his lip and seemed to be working on some plan for making Vin feel better.

"You wanna watch the Munsters with me?"

"No thanks. I'm just planning on going to bed."

"But it's still daylight outside."

"I know, I just don't feel good."

"You could sleep with Muffin." Billy offered. Since the Larabees only had Cowboy the dog and a goldfish named George, Vin figured Muffin must be one of Billy's many stuffed animals.

"No thanks. I'll be okay."

"You wanna drink of water?" Clearly Billy was running his young mind over the list of things that made him feel better.

"No, your Mom brought me a glass of water a little while ago. It's okay, I'll be all right. You can go watch the Munsters or whatever you were gonna do. I appreciate the offer though."

"Okay." Billy said reluctantly. He chewed on his lip again. "You shouldn't feel bad Vin. They were stinkheads."

"Yes they were."

to be continued


	74. Chapter 74

By the time Mary had emptied the dishwasher and filled it up again and gotten herself something to eat, she was feeling a better. A little better. She just couldn't believe Chris. How could he leave Vin sitting off by himself, upset and bleeding, while he wasted his time and his breath yelling at Nettie when anybody – any _woman_ maybe – could see she was already as broken up as she could be. He should've been taking care of Vin and letting Buck move Nettie along.

She turned from the stove where she was pouring herself a cup of tea to find Vin standing in the kitchen doorway. He looked so worn out and fragile, standing there in Chris' favorite sweatshirt. His hands were pushed all the way into his jeans' pockets and he seemed to be having trouble looking up at her.

"How do you feel now?" she asked. She meant it to sound concerned and affectionate, but to her own ears it sounded cold and unsympathetic.

"Okay. I just wondered – I wanted – needed – wondered if you'd – if I could -." He looked up at her. "If you'd let me have a painkiller? Two. I'm supposed to take two. It's been longer than four hours since I took one. Swallowed one anyway. My back hurts and I was just gonna go to bed and just…" his voice trailed off and he looked down again.

Mary couldn't stand it. She'd reduced Vin to begging for his own medication. She stopped being angry with Chris and started being angry with herself.

"I'll get them for you." She said. They were on a paper towel on a shelf in the pantry closet in the hallway just outside the kitchen archway. Still – she hesitated at picking up two at once. But that _was_ the dosage indicated on the bottle, so she brought out two and offered them to Vin. But he didn't take them from her.

"Are you still mad at me?" he asked.

"I'm not mad at you."

"So what was that upstairs? Practice?"

She wondered if Vin was being silly or sarcastic. She couldn't tell.

"I'm mad at everyone and everything that brought you to the point of nearly swallowing two bottles of pain medication."

"So that's me anyway, isn't it?" Vin still hadn't taken the medication from her. "People only do to you what you let 'em do to you, isn't that it? So it's me anyway."

"It's not you." Mary told him. She held the pills out a little more insistently and Vin finally took them from her.

"You don't know."

"I do – I know what it's like to have life run out of control on you, I know what it feels like when something hurts so bad you wish it would kill you just so you don't have to feel it anymore. When my brother died -." But she stopped herself there. She wouldn't go there. "I know what it's like."

Vin looked the pills in his hand and not at her and said, "Thanks for these." And walked away back upstairs.

*/*/*/*

Mary took her tea and went to the deck. Both Chris and Buck gave her a wary look, no doubt wondering what her mood was going to be. Buck apparently decided it wasn't good.

"Well, I think maybe I'll head out and go home." He stood up.

Mary glared at him.

He sat down again.

"You want to tell me what exactly happened here today?" she asked both of them, but Chris in particular. "This morning everything was 'fine', and then I come home to find World War Three raging on our front lawn."

"Vin had a misunderstanding with Nettie." Chris said.

"Oh really? Just Vin? And what were you two doing with her? Dancing?"

But Mary knew she didn't really have to ask.. Chris was doing what he always did – protecting a member of his family. Especially since Stephen, Chris had become hyper-aware of any real or even perceived threat to the people he cared about. If he had to drive an old woman into the ground to do protect his family, he'd do it.

She sighed and set herself wearily on the top step of the deck.

"If he loses Nettie, I'm worried what it'll do to Vin."

"He's not going to lose her." Buck said, and he sounded pretty confident saying it. "He's angry at her and maybe he hurt her feelings, but she'll have him back with open arms the second he realizes she never meant to hurt him."

Well that sounded reasonable to Mary, but by the look on her husband's face he was thinking something else.

"Chris?" she prompted. "What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking Nettie ought to worry about what I'll do to _her_ if things don't work out."

*/*/*/*

Vin stared at the two tablets a long time before washing them down with the remaining water. They'd put him to sleep and sleep wasn't bad. But it wasn't all that good either if all he was going to do was wake up again feeling bad. He could take a walk, but then he'd have to leave the bedroom. He could lay down without taking the pills, but his back hurt and he didn't want to endure that pain any more if he could help it.

He felt sick. Life was too hard and he felt sick. He hated Maria for being the reason those boys attacked him. He hated Nettie for having a lawn that needed to be mowed so that he was outside when Maria was harassed and he had to save her. He hated JD for telling him about the apartment for rent in that neighborhood. He hated his Aunt Diane for being cruel. He hated his parents for dying.

More than all of that though he hated himself – for not being strong enough to stop those boys from attacking him, for not being able to take care of himself since it happened, for needing help and making everybody take care of him. He hated himself for being the shy, skinny, _sensitive_ kid who always felt like he didn't quite fit with the people around him, even if those people said he was their friend.

Without thinking at that point, Vin swallowed the pills and choked on the water. Sleep would be good even if he was scared of waking up again with the overwhelming pain bearing down on him. Why bother going to sleep if that's what was going to be waiting for him on the other side? But the pills would give him a couple of hours of relief. He'd be facing the horror on the other side anyway, why not have the two hours of oblivion?

He set the glass on the desk and curled himself into the middle of the lower bunk mattress. The chills had stopped with his shower so he didn't need to pull the blankets over himself. The door was closed too which made Vin feel better. That way Chris and Mary couldn't see him.

As though if they couldn't see him they wouldn't remember he was there using up all their compassion and hot water.

The thought pushed into his mind, at least he knew where Mary had the pills now, if it came to that.

"It _can't_ come to that." He said out loud. "I don't want it to come to that."

It wasn't until Vin felt the movement of cool air across his face that he realized someone had opened the bedroom door, and he squeezed his eyes shut. Maybe they hadn't heard him. Maybe they'd think he was asleep. Maybe -.

"Vin?" It was Chris. Vin felt him sit down on the edge of the bunk. "What do you need?" His voice was so gentle and so concerned, Vin almost couldn't stand it.

What did he need? He needed everything to be all right with Nettie. He needed to not feel like dying would be better than living. He needed to be on his own again and he needed somebody to be with him every second so that he wouldn't turn into a screaming wreck.

"I'm fine."

"Vin." Apparently he wasn't buying the '_fine'_ line anymore. Vin opened his eyes but didn't look at Chris.

"I'm just going to sleep. I just need to sleep. I'll be fine." Then he did look up. "Honest Chris. If I just get some sleep, I'll feel better okay? Tomorrow -." It was more of a wish than a promise he could guarantee to keep. " – I'll feel better."

Chris took a minute but finally nodded. "Okay."

"Vin?" This time it was Billy's voice from the doorway. Vin looked over at him. Chris turned as well. Billy had his arms behind his back. "If you're gonna go to sleep you should have something to sleep with 'cause sometimes it's hard to sleep if you don't have something with you. So you can sleep with Muffin." And he brought out from behind his back a huge, stuffed, plush _muffin_. He handed it to Vin who took it awkwardly.

"Muffin." He said and then looked at Chris again. "Buck got this for him, didn't he?"

to be continued


	75. Chapter 75

Chris sent Billy downstairs then came back into the room. He pulled the chair out and sat down next to the bed.

"OK, let's try this again. How are you? Don't give me '_fine'_. Give me the truth." He held Vin's gaze, daring him to turn away or lie.

Lying on his back on the bottom bunk, Vin twirled Muffin between his hands then set the stuffed oddity down on the mattress next to himself.

"I wish I was dead." He said it like a challenge.

"Why?"

"_WHY?_" Vin exclaimed. "Why the hell do you think?"

"Spell it out for me."

Vin opened his mouth to answer Chris in the most blunt words possible. But nothing came out. Too many words, thoughts and images crowded around demanding to be spoken first so that nothing came out.

He sat up and set his feet on the floor to rest his head in his hands.

"Vin?"

"_I don't know._" He tried to grab one whirling thought at least. The painkillers were kicking in; he wasn't going to last long. "Did you ever just have a time in your life when you looked back and nothing you did seemed worthwhile, and when you look forward nothing seems possible? Like where you're standing is just the midpoint of your own personal lifetime hell?"

"I've had times like that." Chris said. "They don't last."

"But they keep coming back." Vin plucked another thought from the swirl. "I feel like I don't belong anywhere."

"_You belong here._"

"No I don't. I don't belong here to live here. I'm not family and even if I was, I shouldn't be living with you. I should be taking care of myself."

"And if you'd been hit by a truck, like Buck compares it to, would you still think you should be taking care of yourself?"

"Well, um, yeah." Vin answered honestly. Chris sighed and rolled his eyes.

"We have to change that."

"That's how I was raised. You can't change it. "

"I can change anything I want." Chris told him.

"Oh I forgot - you rule the world."

"I rule _this_ part of the world."

Vin smiled at that. What would the world be like with a laid-back Larabee?

"Just let me get through tomorrow, Chris. Once the week anniversary is over, it ought to get better. Right?"

_No,_ Chris thought, _it never really gets better._

"Yes." he said.

*/*/*/*

Chris sank down next to Mary on the top step of the back deck with a weary sigh. Buck had finally been allowed to go home. Billy had just gone to bed, Vin was in bed, and out on the back lawn in the waning daylight, Cowboy was rolling in something only he would find fascinating.

"You know, don't you?" Chris asked Mary with no preamble. "What they did to him." He'd suspected it for awhile, but now he was pretty sure she knew.

"They raped him."

He wanted to know that she knew, but that didn't mean he wanted her to use _that_ word.

"Buck told you?" he asked, though he didn't think Buck would've done that.

"He confirmed it." Mary said. "It wasn't hard to figure out when the poor man was taking a shower every time I turned around. And - he's frightened. I have never seen Vin Tanner _frightened_."

"Neither have I. Sometimes he seems fine and sometimes I'm surprised I don't find him hiding under the bed." Chris turned slightly to look up at Vin's bedroom window. "He's not sleeping enough, he's not eating enough and I think he's taking too damn many painkillers."

"So do I." Mary said quietly. "I'm worried what losing Nettie would do to him."

"_He's got us."_

"Honey," Mary said in her best most patient voice. "Nettie is like his mother, his grandmother. Buck is a fine friend, but he doesn't replace your mother, does he?"

"No, but if I lost her, I'd sure be glad I had him."

Now Mary sighed. It was a sigh Chris had heard many times before. It meant she thought he was being deliberately contrary.

"I'm just saying - _he's got us."_ He said again. That seemed like enough to Chris, he didn't think he had to explain it anymore than that.

"Yes, he does, honey." Mary agreed. "How is he now?"

"Sleeping. Billy gave him Muffin to keep him company." Chris felt better that Mary knew; at least now he could talk about it openly with her. "He said he doesn't belong here."

Mary shook her head. "I'm sure he's just tired and miserable. How could he not belong with his friends? I hope he knows he's not getting out of here until _we_ say so."

"I've told him that already. I intend to keep telling him until he believes it."

"Are you taking him to work tomorrow?"

"Yeah, he wants to go to church first though – _no,_ I am not going in with him." Chris hurried to inform Mary before she could dare to hope. "He said it'll only be twenty minutes or so. I can sit in the car."

"Still, it's very nice of you to take him."

"Well...I hate leaving him alone when I don't have to. He won't ask for help when he needs it and if he gets hurt he keeps it all inside." Chris explained and suddenly Mary was smiling at him that same way Buck did whenever he said Chris was in 'protective mode'. "What? Why are you smiling at me? What is so odd about me taking care of a friend?"

"Not odd honey, just nice to see. It's nice to see you taking care of him, and it's nice to see him let you take care of him. He doesn't often let himself be taken care of."

"Well, I'm going to take care of him."

*/*/*/*

Lying in the lower bunk, facing the wall, with an arm around Muffin, Vin heard Chris' footsteps go down the hall. One last check on Billy for the night probably, then there'd be one last check on him. He was halfway asleep anyway, with painkillers and just plain emotional exhaustion, so he figured Chris would just have a look that he was set and not disturb him.

Sure enough, the footsteps came back down the hall and stopped at his door. Vin found himself comforted by the sound; Chris stopped there so naturally, as though checking on him was as ordinary as breathing for Chris. That thought settled Vin and made him feel safe.

A minute later, the light slanted off in the bedroom as Chris pulled the door partially shut and his footsteps went down the stairs. Vin fell asleep.

*/*/*/*

The next morning started hot and got hotter. Another shower, another shave, and another half-eaten breakfast. Mary didn't say very much to Vin, which he greatly appreciated, but she kept touching him, which he hated. Patting his shoulder when she set his plate in front of him, then again when she put two iron tablets next to it. She touched his hand when she asked him if he wanted more orange juice and put her hand on his forearm when she handed him Chris' shirt all nice and clean.

It had to stop, Vin told himself. He couldn't go on taking and taking from them. It was slowly driving him mad, he could feel it. They were his friends and he could hardly stand to be around them, and the more they did for him the more he wanted to be anywhere away from them.

He had to offer to help. He knew he should offer to help clear the table, wash the dishes, put the salt and pepper and orange juice away, but by the time he felt he'd taken in enough breath to form the offer, everything was done and he was sitting at a cleared table.

"Set?" Chris asked, pulling on his good jacket and turning the collar right side out.

"Yeah." Vin stood up to follow Chris down the back hall and out into the garage. He'd just about resigned himself to leaving without his painkillers - because he was _not_ going to ask Mary for them again - when Mary put her hand on his arm to stop him.

Without saying anything, but with great meaning in her expression, she handed over the bottle. She had only put five pills back in, just the painkillers, no muscle relaxants. Just enough to get him through the workday.

Vin nodded and didn't say anything. He put the bottle into the pocket of Chris' shirt and went out. He got into Chris' truck, sat back, and closed his eyes for the drive to Josiah's church.

A week. It'd only been a week since he was attacked. That was so odd. Vin was absolutely sure that his attack had happened years ago, that he'd spent the better part of his life frightened, damaged and dirty. But no, it'd only been a week.

That was so odd.

*/*/*/*

Chris parked his truck in the back of the church, in the closest parking spot, a couple of dozen yards from the side entrance. Vin stared out the window at the red brick structure before opening his door.

" 'preciate it." he said. "Won't be long."

He shut the door and started walking for the church. Halfway there he froze. Maybe _they_ were in there. He hadn't considered that. Who knew where they came from. The church wasn't too far from his neighborhood. This could be their parish. If they had a parish. They could be anywhere around here. They could be in the church..

He could go back to the truck. They'd just go to work early, that's all. Chris would understand. All he had to do was turn around and go back to the truck.

Then again, Josiah was in the church. He wouldn't let anything happen to Vin. If Vin went into the church and sat in the pew closest to the altar, he'd be okay. Josiah might even let him sit in one of the chairs on the side of the altar if he did duty as altar boy. He'd done that before.

But if he was on the altar, he'd be up there where anybody could see him, and he still had fading bruises on his face and he was too dirty to be up there where anybody could see him but he didn't want to sit down in the pews where anybody could get to him so he should just turn around and go back to the truck but maybe _they_ were here and watching him already and if he turned around they'd be standing there like they were last week in his bathroom and they'd hurt him again and humiliate him and even the little pieces of his life he'd managed to get back together would fracture all over again and again and he really would lose his mind and maybe that wouldn't be so bad because then at least -

Vin's thoughts came to a skidding stop when he heard a car door close. He flinched but was too stiff with fear to turn around or run for the church. In a moment someone - Chris - stood next to him and his fear drained away in such a rush, he almost felt lightheaded.

"They got air conditioning in there?" Chris asked. Vin nodded. "Good. C'mon. It's too hot out here."

to be continued


	76. Chapter 76

Josiah was in the sanctuary, lighting the candles on the altar and beside the Tabernacle, when he saw Vin and Chris come into the church. He didn't know who he was more surprised to see. He didn't think Vin had been doing all that well. The past couple of days that he'd called Chris' house to talk to Vin, he'd talked to Mary instead and what she said didn't exactly cheer Josiah. Yesterday's news really worried him - Vin and Nettie had argued. That just wasn't good. Add to that the fact that today was the week anniversary of the attack and Josiah wouldn't have been surprised if it all combined to drive Vin into catatonia. He was glad and grateful that Vin had come here today.

Chris was a different story. He was more than just a fallen away Christian - he seemed determined to best God in a stare-down. He didn't like God and he preferred to believe that God didn't like him. Josiah knew most of the story behind it - via JD courtesy of Buck, and he wondered that Chris had kept it from Vin and the rest of their friends this long, but he expected it involved a promise to Buck and JD of sudden excruciating death if anybody else found out. Josiah had it on absolute authority - _Chris' word_ - that he would never set foot in a church again until God came up with one mighty divine explanation for everything that Chris felt was wrong with the world.

Seemed like today at least God had provided Chris with something more powerful than that - He'd given Chris a friend in need.

Josiah smiled - both at God and at his friends taking their seats in the dim church. Vin wasn't looking at anything that wasn't on the floor, but Chris quirked an eyebrow at Josiah, daring him to make a remark. Josiah's smile turned to a grin and he shook his head as he went back to prepare for Mass.

*/*/*/*

The inside of the old church was cool. A half dozen people were there already, mostly older ladies and a couple of men on their way to work too probably. Vin chose a pew towards the middle, far enough away from the next closest person that nobody would try to shake his hand at the Sign of Peace. Chris went in first and Vin sat on the end.

He thought he should pray, that's what he was here for, wasn't it? He wanted to pray for - what? He couldn't even think of what he wanted to pray for, much less do the praying.

Why was he here? Why was he even alive? It seemed his whole life was just a never-ending sequence of escalating bad things. Nothing good ever happened, or never stayed good for long. What was he supposed to do? Could he take his life back? How? What if Amanda wanted to talk to him again? Maybe he could have the stitches taken out somewhere else. Maybe Dr. Hyde could do it. Maybe it didn't even matter.

He couldn't pray. Here he was in church and he couldn't even pray. His body was too sore to kneel and too tired to stand. For the whole short Mass he sat in the pew and didn't move, didn't even look up. He was aware of people standing and praying and kneeling and going up to Communion, but he didn't move.

It was a week. It was one stinking week that took up all of his life and left him with nothing but shame and fear. He couldn't even go to church without Chris being there with him. He couldn't even go to bed without Chris having to make sure he was okay. What kind of life was that? Why did he deserve that? Why did God hate him?

He sat in the pew and didn't move and didn't pray.

*/*/*/*

Chris wasn't Catholic and hadn't been to a Catholic Mass in years, since a college friend got married. He would've sat and stood and knelt when everybody else did, if Vin had been doing it. But Vin only sat there, so Chris stayed right with him.

Josiah saw them pretty quick. Chris wondered if he was more surprised to see Vin, or to see him. He briefly wondered if Josiah would mind them not actually participating the way the other people were but he didn't seem to. He frequently looked over at Vin, but he seemed concerned, not annoyed.

The Mass went by faster than Chris remembered that wedding Mass going. Of course, nobody was pronouncing vows here. After the last blessing, as the other people left the church, Josiah caught his eye and motioned for them to wait a minute while he went into the other room. He was out again in a few minutes in street clothes and came down to their pew. Vin apparently was so far someplace else that he gasped when Josiah put a hand on his shoulder. He looked up, startled. Scared. Chris and Josiah exchanged a glance.

"Vin, it's good to see you here today. How are you doing?"

"I - I - was just - what?" Vin looked around. "I'm sorry - what?"

"How are you doing, Vin?" Josiah's voice dropped a notch with concern.

"I'm okay."

Another glance between Chris and Josiah showed that neither man believed him.

"You're going to work today?" The question was asked equally between Chris and Vin.

"Yeah." Vin whispered. He was staring down at his feet on the kneeler. Josiah looked at Chris, as he spoke to Vin again.

"You know, I made paella for supper last night, and I've got a lot left over. You wanna stay and help me take care of that dripping faucet in the kitchen, I'll give you lunch. I know you love my paella."

"Yeah?" Vin didn't lift his eyes. "No, thanks. I'll stay with Chris." He looked up at Chris then. "Okay?"

Chris didn't want to spend this day away from Vin anymore than it seemed Vin wanted to spend it away from him.

"You bet."

"What are you doing after work?" Josiah asked.

"I - I - I - don't know." Vin stammered and looked at Chris, afraid, like maybe something had been decided behind his back and he was being traded off.

"I'm on strict orders from Mary to bring him straight back home." Chris answered Josiah and Vin both at the same time. "You know how she is when somebody in the family isn't feeling well. She takes it as a personal affront if they don't get better on her watch."

Vin had turned to Josiah when Chris first started talking, then quickly turned back on the word 'family'. The fear changed to relief. Chris had used the word purposely, but it didn't make it any less true. He added to Josiah,

"We were talking about making some time this weekend for your faucet. I know Vin's got the tools, he thinks we just need to reseat it. Shouldn't take long."

"Well I'll be grateful." Josiah said, and winked at Vin. "_Eternally_." Vin smiled and Chris had to ask him,

"How come you don't make smart remarks about his humor?"

"On account of he's actually funny." Was the flat response. But it was as welcome to Chris' ears as an all-out laugh.

"I'm your boss now." Chris threatened. "You want to keep your job, you have to be nice to me."

Still the flat expression. "I'm permanent. You can't get rid of me."

Chris growled. "I can't win with you, can I?"

"No."

With a deep sigh, working hard not to smile, Chris asked, "You ready to go to work or not?"

"What are you, a slave driver?"

"Josiah, a little help here?"

But Josiah held up his hands in surrender. "Hey, I invited him to lunch. You're the one fighting me to take him with you." Vin turned a barely restrained smile on Chris.

"I could assign you latrine duty." Chris tried to threaten again.

"You really want me cleaning _your_ bathroom?"

Chris closed his eyes and shook his head.

"This is what I get for coming to church."

But Vin was still one step ahead of him. "This is what you get for having friends smarter than you are."

"Doesn't he have to go to confession for this?" Chris _tried_ one last appeal to Josiah. Just as Josiah was about to answer, Vin cut in.

"Humility is truth." he said, standing up stiffly and with a moan. He didn't even see the hand that Chris put up just in case he needed help.

"What does that mean?" Chris asked.

"It means -." Vin stifled another moan as he straightened up. " - that truth hurts." He shuffled out of the pew and hesitated a moment before genuflecting. "Ow - oh that was not a good idea." His arm shook as he pulled himself up on the back of the pew. "You coming r'what Larabee? You got a University to conquer in case you forgot."

"How can I conquer the University when I can't one up you?" Chris slid out of the pew to stand beside Josiah.

"You should be used to it by now." Vin said. "Josiah -." But he stopped there and seemed to be considering his words. "I might take you up on lunch or dinner tomorrow, if the offer's open?"

"It is." Josiah said.

"Good. Thanks. Chris? You want me to get the truck for you? Or you think you can walk that far?" He started walking away without even waiting for an answer.

"Has he always been a smart aleck?" Chris asked Josiah.

"No, actually he hasn't." Josiah answered brightly. "Only since he met you."

"Great." Chris fished his keys out of his back pocket. "Mom always said I brought the best out in people."

"Yes, you do. You know - calling him 'family' was just what he needed. I think today is going to be hard on him."

"He'll be okay - I'll watch him." Chris promised Josiah, and himself.


	77. Chapter 77

_Family_.

That couldn't be right.

Vin thought about what Chris had said in the church, as they drove to work. Chris had called him family. At least it seemed like Chris had called him family.

Maybe he heard wrong.

Because that couldn't be right.

They'd been talking about him not feeling well, and Chris said family was required to get better on Mary's watch. They were talking about _Vin_ not feeling well and Chris was saying he was taking him home after work because _family_ had to get better on Mary's watch.

_Family_.

That couldn't be right.

"Josiah seemed a little surprised to see you." Vin said. Maybe talking about something else would keep his mind off what Chris had said. He couldn't wrap his mind around it, and he had enough stray thoughts ricocheting around in there already, he didn't need any more.

"I think _God_ was a little surprised to see me too."

"I know you don't usually go to church."

"It was hot in the car." Chris shrugged. A moment passed.

"You - when you – did you – you -." In a haze of embarrassed panic, Vin tried not to ask what he wanted to ask but hadn't intended to ask. _you really think I'm family?_ His voice sputtered off into some odd garbled sound and he wished he could sink out of sight in the passenger seat.

"What? I didn't quite catch that."

"I don't know." Vin lied. "I take those painkillers and I can't even tell if I've got my shoes on the right feet. I think I mighta been going to ask about lunch. My turn to buy you know."

"Okay." Chris said, but Vin couldn't tell if he'd bought the lie or not. "You know, I don't like how those pills knock you out. I never had a fractured vertebrae, but it doesn't seem like it hurts you enough to warrant knocking you out two hours out of every four. You should get a second opinion."

"I don't want to go to another doctor."

"What about Dr. Hyde?"

Vin didn't answer. He didn't want Dr. Hyde to know what had happened. Not that Dr. Hyde would tell anyone. It just felt like having one person in the building know would contaminate everything. He didn't want even one more person to know.

"Just be careful with them." Chris said quietly.

"I will."

*/*/*/*

The morning progressed quietly enough. Vin figured somebody else must still be working on the James mess since he didn't hear any cursing or muttering coming from Chris. His own email inbox was full of more Maintenance requests and Groundskeeping reports. Once he'd made his way through those, scheduling work and forwarding important things to Chris, Vin turned to the pile of 'snail mail' waiting on the corner of his desk.

Requests for time off. He'd give those to Chris.

Purchase orders that needed to be approved. He'd give those to Chris.

A pointed memorandum on engraved letter head from Mrs. Stevens about tire marks on the Green and reports of Chris' truck being seen driving near her tulip bed. Definitely going to give that one to Chris.

As he whittled the pile down, Vin thought again about Chris calling him family. That couldn't be right. Chris couldn't have meant that.

But Chris always meant what he said.

If Vin thought about, he knew he could probably come up with some instance of Chris saying something he didn't mean. Nobody could _never_ say something they didn't mean. Right?

There was that one time they found a couple of high school aged boys out behind the Maintenance barn, sniffing glue. After grabbing the glue and getting their names and calling their parents, Chris told the two that if he ever caught them doing that again, he'd turn their heads inside out so that they could see for themselves just how stupid they were. He hadn't really meant that, right?

Vin looked over at Chris, who sat with a look of grim concentration on his face as he tried to make some spreadsheet make sense.

Nope, he'd probably meant what he said to those two boys.

_Family. _

Vin didn't even know if he wanted to be part of somebody's family. That was too much responsibility. Too many people to keep track of and worry about.

Too much chance that it wouldn't last now like it'd never lasted before.

"Chris?"

"Yeah?" Chris finished double checking an entry on his spreadsheet before looking over, and Vin found himself caught in that bind again, starting to ask about what he wanted to know but didn't want to talk about.

"I got some purchase orders and time off requests here. You want them or should I send them to Gloria? She's got authority to sign off on them."

"Send them to Gloria will you? That'll make my life a whole lot easier."

"Okay."

_Family_. What in the world did that mean anyway? He looked over at Chris again.

For one thing, it seemed like it meant having a friend go to Mass with you when he hadn't set foot in a church in at least three years, and by all reports several years before that.

And probably it was Mary doing his laundry all the time because she was glad to do it, not because she felt forced to do it.

No doubt it was Buck going miles out of his way every day to make a check of his apartment so that he didn't worry.

Vin sighed and put his head in his hands.

"You okay?" Chris asked.

"_Apparently." _

"You make it sound like such a good thing."

"I just was thinking." Vin lifted his head but still couldn't bring himself to talk about it. About being family. "This has been the worst week of my life."

"Yeah." Chris said it slowly, waiting for the next worse comment.

"Just – just – you've made it easier is all." Vin quickly went back to his computer and his emails to not have to look at Chris. "You and Buck and Mary. And you. That's what I was thinking. That's all."

A moment passed and Vin willed himself to not look up. Finally he heard Chris say:

"That's what family does."

to be continued


	78. Chapter 78

"Hey, it be all right if I was to fire up your coffee maker?" Vin asked Chris. "I took a painkiller and I need some caffeine to keep me awake."

"Sure. Everything is there."

"Okay."

The Black & Decker machine sat on an old, squat cabinet across from Chris' desk. Vin filled the pot in the sink in the bathroom and pulled a filter out of the pack on the bottom shelf.

"How many scoops you usually put in?" he asked, waiting for Chris' answer with the plastic spoon poised over the small can of coffee.

"Four." Chris said. Vin started scooping, but once the third one was in, he gave a glance back at Chris, then down at the coffee pot.

"What?" Chris asked, puzzled.

"You're not exactly known for subtle coffee." Vin told him.

"Coffee is supposed to be _subtle_?"

"Well, leastways it shouldn't take the paint off a car."

"You want to stay awake, it'll keep you awake. You want paint on your car, don't drink it in the parking lot."

Vin considered it a bit more and put a _very small_ fourth scoop into the basket. When everything was set and the machine was working, he walked back to his desk with a very tired sigh.

"How're you holding up?" Chris asked.

"Tolerable I guess. I tried taking only one pill, see if I can skip my morning nap, but it's trying to sneak up on me all the same." Vin settled himself into his chair. "Need to stay awake 'til lunch anyhow. After I eat though, all bets are off."

"I could have a cot installed in here for you."

"Don't tempt me." Vin set his arms on the desk and rested his head in his hands. "Just give me a couple minutes to rest my eyes. I'll be OK."

Neither of them said anything for a few minutes. Chris went back to reviewing incident reports and Vin stayed with his head in his hands. After the few minutes, without lifting his head, Vin said,

"I can't believe it's been a week. It's like it's '_only'_ been a week, and it's '_already'_ been a week. Seems like years sometimes."

"That's not an unusual feeling." Chris said.

Vin mumbled something that sounded like an agreement and said nothing else. When the coffee was ready, Chris poured them each a cup. He added powdered creamer to Vin's and set it on the desk near his arm.

"Here you go."

"Hunh? Oh. Thanks." Vin sat back and lifted the cup in his hands. Chris sat on the edge of his own desk with his coffee.

"So, what do you want to do for lunch?"

"I don't know. I don't know what I feel like." Vin said.

"How about we head off campus? Get a change of scenery? With school starting next week, this could be our last chance to find a table at lunchtime."

"Today's gonna be really bad, isn't it?" Vin asked suddenly. The question caught Chris a little off-guard, still he managed an answer.

"Yeah, I expect it is."

"It's not fair, right? It's not fair that I'm going through all this?"

"No, it definitely is not fair."

Vin seemed to accept that. He nodded and took a sip of coffee. Chris watched him a minute.

"It's just about ten thirty now." He said. "Why don't we give your caffeine rush an hour to set in then head off campus for lunch? Go to Inez's place."

"Okay."

Inez wasn't surprised to see Chris and Vin walk into her restaurant. They came here for lunch two or three times a month. She liked seeing them. Chris could be a little brusque but she'd realized early on that he used his attitude to keep people from finding out that he was really on the shy side.

In contrast, Vin seemed to use shyness as a way to keep people from finding out anything else about him. She hadn't been able to figure out yet what Vin might be covering, though she seriously doubted it could be anything bad. He was always friendly to talk to and good looking too. If Vin had only half of Buck Wilmington's smooth charm, he'd have twice as many of his conquests.

Today though, something was wrong. She could see that almost as soon as they walked in. Vin had his hands shoved into his pockets with his shoulders hunched which was an unusual posture for him. He looked like he was in pain.

She walked over to them, intending to ask Vin what was wrong, but when she got close enough she saw a fear in his eyes that she recognized as a silent request that she not ask him anything. So she put a smile on her face and greeted them warmly.

"It's good to see you two. Your usual table I'm sure. Come on and I'll get you some menus."

Chris smiled and Vin tried to and she turned to lead them to the booth they usually occupied when it was just the two of them. They had no sooner sat down than Vin sighed and slid out again.

"Too much coffee." He complained. "I'll be back."

When he was gone and Inez was laying out menus and paper placemats, she asked Chris,

"Is he OK?"

"He hurt his back."

"Bad?"

She thought at first that Chris was going to say 'no' and brush off her concern. But he nodded.

"Yeah, pretty bad."

"What happened? Is that what the others were so concerned about last Sunday?"

"I suppose it could've been." He didn't seem to want to offer any more information. She decided not to push it.

"Let me know if he needs anything."

"I will."

*/*/*/*

"No more coffee." Vin muttered to himself as he zipped up his jeans and washed his hands and tried to stretch the ache out of his back. "No more _four scoop_ coffee."

The combination of the caffeine high and the medicative lull made him feel weirdly fuzzy. He hoped eating would help, and that wasn't something he thought he'd be hearing himself say anytime soon. He was glad school hadn't started yet so he didn't have to navigate his unsteady course through a lunch-rush of college kids. He just wanted to get to the table and sit and eat and then later quietly implode while all of last week's horror revisited him as the afternoon wore on.

He slid back into the booth and tried to be comfortable on the hard bench.

"I ordered you a root beer." Chris told him.

"Thanks." Vin would've preferred a _real_ beer, but drinking it on top of his painkiller would only land him face down in his lunch. He opened his menu but had a hard time deciding what to order. He wanted to eat to see if he could lose the shakes, but he wasn't sure what his stomach would handle. On top of that, his brain kept making him remember what he'd been doing last week at the precise time, as the time wore down to when he was attacked.

"You going somewhere?" Chris' voice surprised him. "You keep looking at the clock."

"Just thinking – remembering – last week. Counting down the minutes." He cut off whatever Chris tried to say. "I told you, it's always there. I can't help but think about it. It's just worse today. It's like remembering the morning just before the Towers went down. How everything seemed fine and normal and then nothing was the way it was before. That's all. I can't help it. It's just always there."

Chris started to say something again, then seemed at a loss. Finally something seemed to occur to him.

"You know, when I was younger and had a headache, my Mom would always offer to kick me in the shin so I'd forget about the headache."

Vin squinted at Chris.

"Thanks, I'll manage." They both laughed but Vin got serious again. "I was thinking, after work, could we – would you – I thought – I think -." He gave up, sighed and closed his eyes. Maybe he should've had that beer anyway. When he spoke again, he did so very precisely. He had a hard time looking at Chris as he said it.

"After work, I'd like to go to my apartment. I'd like to be at my apartment at the time it happened. I don't know if it'll do me any good, but it just feels like once I get past the week, past the time it happened a week ago, it feels like I'll be able to get past it. Some of it anyway. If that's okay. With you."

Chris nodded. "I'll be there with you."

to be continued


	79. Chapter 79

Chris kept an eye on Vin the rest of the afternoon. He couldn't say what he was looking for exactly, but it was the week anniversary of the attack, and anything could be going through Vin's mind.

He couldn't exactly sit and stare at Vin without it being really obvious, especially since he couldn't really see him around his computer monitor, so Chris kept track of him by watching his hands on his keyboard, which he could see under the monitor.

Sometimes Vin typed rapidly, sometimes his fingers just hovered there for what seemed like a longer time than was necessary. Every once in awhile he opened his bottle of water for a swallow. A few times he picked up the picture of his parents and held it awhile.

As the afternoon wore on though, Chris could see that Vin's hands were trembling, and it only got worse as time passed. So he wasn't surprised at all when an hour before the usual quitting time, Vin leaned around his computer to ask,

"Chris? Can we get out of here?" His voice shook as much as his hands.

"Sure. Let's go." Chris had been tying everything up for the last hour, intending to get Vin out of there if he didn't ask first. He only had to shut off his computer and he was ready to go.

Vin didn't have it quite so easy. His computer froze as he was shutting down, his chair wheel got tangled in the mouse cord, his bottle of water tipped and knocked his parents' picture to the floor. When he picked it up in a white knuckled grip, Chris walked to the side of his desk.

"Let me get this."

Vin didn't look up at him, but seemed to be holding his breath.

"I can do it." He answered after several seconds. He set the picture on the desk, rebooted his computer to shut it down again, and very precisely lifted the mouse back to its mouse pad.

"OK, let's see if I can't walk out of here without killing myself."

Chris knew that was just an offhand remark, said out of frustration, so he didn't call Vin on it. He let him go first out of the office, and shut and locked the door behind them. They got out to the truck without seeing anybody they didn't want to see.

"You still want to go to your apartment?" Chris asked.

_No._ He knew that look on Vin's face. That was the look he got when he knew he had to do something he didn't want to do. He didn't want to go to his apartment. But he _had_ to.

"Yeah. I still want to go."

*/*/*/*

Ever since Buck had given him the description of the gutless wonders who attacked Vin, Chris took every step watching and looking at everybody, hoping to have his chance to kill them. He knew it didn't get any less ugly than that: he wanted them dead, and dead by his hand. Nothing less would satisfy him.

"Hey, you remember the first time you and Mary came over to my apartment? My old apartment?" Vin asked, breaking Chris out of his murderous reverie. "I had that weird painting on the wall, hiding where the old tenant put an outlet six feet off the floor where it didn't need to be. And Mary finally told me I had the stupid thing hanging upside down?" He gave a short laugh and shook his head. "I don't know why I thought of that just now."

"It just shows how much Mary likes you. She doesn't usually spend that much energy trying not to hurt somebody's feelings. That's usually something she'd say as soon as she walked into the house, not take all night working up to it."

"She's always taken care of me," Vin said, and it sounded like he'd only just realized it.

"She likes you," Chris said, which was true. But there'd also been a big gaping hole in her life after Stephen died, and sometimes Vin seemed to fill that niche of little brother for her. She certainly was easier on Vin than she was on any of the rest of Chris' friends.

"Does she know?" Vin asked quietly, and Chris realized he suddenly couldn't breathe.

"She figured it out," he managed to answer. And Vin didn't say anything else and they drove the whole way to Vin's apartment in silence.

There was no parking open on the street, so Chris parked around behind the apartment building. Vin stepped out of the truck but asked Chris if he'd shut the door for him because his back hurt, and then they walked to the front door of his apartment building. Vin stopped there, staring down at the tiled threshold. Chris stopped with him.

"I was down mowing Nettie's lawn," Vin said. "I left work early so I could mow her lawn and still get down to the street fair. This is where Maria was – attacked." He hesitated slightly on the word. "This is where we were all standing just a week ago. Just a stupid week ago."

Chris didn't know if Vin was headed for any kind of emotional breakdown, but if he was, Chris didn't want it happening out here on the street. But just as he was starting to suggest they go inside, Vin went on.

"It just replays over and over in my head. You know? Every minute of it. If I hadn't come home early, if I hadn't mowed Nettie's lawn. If I hadn't moved to this neighborhood to start with, I wouldn't be standing here, feeling like – this – now."

"Some people think everything happens for a reason," Chris said. He couldn't think what else to say. Vin looked at him.

"Do you believe that?"

"If I didn't, I'd go crazy."

Vin just shook his head and led the way inside. He stopped first at his mailbox and pulled out two ads for long distance phone service and a Wal-Mart flyer. After he shut it again, he ran his finger over the typed name underneath, _V. Tanner._

"Maria said my name, when I went to protect her. She called me Vin. I guess I'm the only 'V' here in the building. I figure that's how they knew which apartment I was in." He sighed and started up the stairs to his apartment.

Chris followed him up and waited while Vin unlocked his door, then went inside. Chris hadn't been here since they cleaned up on Sunday. The apartment still smelled of new vinyl and Lestoil, and the air was stifling hot.

"We need to get you an air conditioner."

"I don't think the wiring could handle it," Vin said. He had stopped just inside the door, and hadn't moved in far enough yet to close it.

"We'll get you a few more fans then. You want me to open up some windows?"

"Oh, yeah. Thanks. Sure."

When Chris moved off to the front windows, Vin shut the door and turned all the locks. But he still stood there, looking around like he wanted to be anywhere else. His shoulders were high, and his arms were tight against his sides with his hands shoved in his jeans pockets.

"You don't have to do this," Chris said, though he couldn't be sure exactly what Vin might be intending to do. Vin started walking though, towards the bathroom.

"When they broke in, I was in taking a shower. I keep wondering if it'd been different if I'd been dressed." He stopped at the bathroom doorway and looked in. "If I'd had my jeans and my boots on, it wouldn't have been so easy for them. If I'd been sitting in the front room, I could've called 911 while they were still breaking in. But I was taking a shower and when I turned the water off and pulled open the shower curtain, they were there. Here." He gestured to the floor in front of himself.

Chris didn't know what to say. He didn't want to hear about the attack, but if Vin needed to talk about it, he couldn't not listen. He'd told Vin that he could talk to him about anything about the attack.. He couldn't not listen now.

"I didn't know what to do. I knew who they were, my brain told me that. But I didn't know – I just froze trying to think what I should do. But they grabbed me. All three of them grabbed me and pulled me out of the bathtub. I fought back. I tried to fight back but there was three of them and I didn't stand a chance. I kept trying though." Vin kept his eyes on the floor while he spoke.

"Even after two of them had – had –." But he didn't say _that_ word. "I guess the third one was out in the front room, going through my stuff. I tried to get away, I thought if I could just get in my bedroom I could lock the door and push my dresser in front of it. But when I got to my feet, that's when they slammed my head back into the mirror and my face into the towel bar. Then they shoved me back again against the sink then back down onto the floor. After that, it was just _all_ pain. I guess they had to have kicked me or jumped on me to crack my vertebrae. And the third guy sure took his turn with me."

He paused there, long enough that Chris felt he had to fill the silence.

"I'm surprised none of your neighbors heard anything."

"Well Mrs. Stempniak, she lives below me, she's near stone deaf anyway. Next to me is the Gradwells. They're not so old but maybe they were out at the fair. I figure most of the building was down there. Just as well though. I didn't want anybody to know what happened." He turned and moved past Chris into the kitchen.

"You want some lemonade? I'm gonna make some lemonade."

"Sounds good." Chris turned to watch Vin, but he didn't move out of the bathroom doorway. A week ago, almost exactly, counting down the minutes, a week ago Vin had been attacked. Here. Right here, right on this spot. Now he had a broken back, cracked ribs, post traumatic stress, and suicidal thoughts.

Chris decided that if he ever found the criminals who did it, he wouldn't kill them. He'd make them _wish_ he'd kill them.

to be continued


	80. Chapter 80

_Take the can of lemonade concentrate out of the freezer._

_Take the plastic pitcher out of the cupboard._

_Open the can of lemonade concentrate._

Vin kept his mind busy by silently reciting each step involved in making a pitcher of lemonade. It kept him from continuing to count down the minutes to when the attack happened, at least for a little while. He wanted to know the exact moment that the exact moment passed, but maybe it would be better if he didn't know. If maybe the moment passed unawares and he just ended up on the other side of it without paying attention to it. Maybe that would be better.

At first Chris stood in the bathroom doorway and watched him, then he walked into the front room. It sounded like he was fiddling with the fan. When the lemonade was done, Vin filled two glasses with ice and brought them to his little table. Chris sat at the table, across from him.

It felt like they should be talking about something, but Chris wasn't saying anything and Vin couldn't think of anything. So his mind went back a week to the horror and all the precise details. He'd come in from mowing Nettie's lawn. He shut his front door... did he even lock it? There'd been a couple of times since he moved into this apartment that he'd forgotten to turn the lock and didn't realize it until he was leaving the next morning.

He'd locked it last week hadn't he? He didn't leave it unlocked and just let them walk into his home the way he'd let them just...

No, there were marks on the door jamb. They'd had to jimmy the lock. At least he wasn't guilty of that.

Not guilty. He didn't mean guilty. He wasn't guilty.

After he shut... and _locked_ - the door, he'd kicked off his sneakers gone into his bedroom to get undressed to take a shower.

If he hadn't been mowing Nettie's lawn, he wouldn't have needed to take a shower. If he hadn't been taking a shower when they broke in, they wouldn't have been able to surprise him like that. He would've been dressed and they wouldn't have been able to... to...

"How's your back?" Chris asked. The silence in Vin's mind after the question made him realize how hard his blood had been pounding in his ears.

"Hurts."

"Well, not that I particularly want to say this, but... maybe you should take another painkiller? I know you've trying to stay awake, but you look like you're in pain."

"That's not my back," Vin muttered, but he took the bottle of pills out of the shirt pocket anyway. There were three pills left. Mary had given him five; he'd taken one this morning at work, and another one about four hours ago. One at a time didn't put him to sleep at least, and seemed to be enough to manage the pain.

He opened the bottle and shook one pill out into his hand.

"I took them all," he said.

"You sure you got the dosage right?" Chris asked. "I don't think you should have gone through them that fast."

Vin knew that Chris was misunderstanding him. He knew that he could just say something that sounded like an agreement, say he'd talk to Nathan about it, and then let it go. He knew Chris was worried enough already that he might be suicidal. Hell, _he_ was worried that he might be suicidal. But no matter what Chris' reaction might be to the information, Vin wanted to tell him.

"Last night," he said. He dropped the painkiller back into its bottle and put the cap on. "After what happened with Nettie, I was up in the room and I opened both bottles and poured them out in my hand and I took them all."

"_What?_" Chris took the bottle out of Vin's hand and opened it up to look inside, as though some answer would be found in there.

"I spit 'em out again just as soon as I took them," Vin explained. "Mary saw me. She took them away from me."

"Did you swallow any?" Chris asked. He sounded angry.

"No."

"What the hell were you thinking?"

"I was thinking that it would be easier to go to sleep and not have to worry about anything anymore," Vin spoke quietly. _Could Chris really not understand that?_ "That I couldn't stand the pain anymore and that if I drove one more person away from me, there wouldn't be much to live for anyway."

That seemed to take the wind out of Chris' anger. He set the pill bottle on the table and stood up. He gestured like he was going to say something, wanted to say something, but nothing came out. He took a couple of paces between the dinette and kitchen space then took his seat again.

"Why didn't you tell me? I thought we agreed you'd talk to me about what's going on."

"That would imply I knew what to say."

"What about what you told me just now? You couldn't have mentioned it last night?"

"What the hell do you know anyway?" Vin snapped. He stood up and walked into the front room. "You have no idea what this is like. What any of this is like. You've got your perfect life and your perfect home and your perfect family. Nobody ever came in and ripped your life all to shreds so that you don't know what to do or where you belong or who you belong with. You don't know what it's like to look at the rest of your life stretching out in front of you and all you see is... is some long line of broken bits and shards that'll never be whole again."

"If you think my life is perfect, we need to have a serious talk," Chris said.

"I think it's better than _my_ life."

Chris sighed and stood up from the table to stand closer to Vin.

"I won't argue that right now you're having a worse time of it. But don't think I haven't known sorrow." He was keeping his voice low which Vin wondered if either he was holding in a lot of anger, or expressing a lot of pain. He remembered what Buck said about Mary's brother dying, how hard it had been for Chris. He didn't say anything.

"Why didn't you tell me last night about the pills?" Chris asked again.

"I didn't want you to know."

"Why not?"

"Because I was _ashamed_. Do you know what _that_ feels like?"

He wanted to tell Chris all the little spikes of shame that he had to drag himself through every day. From not being able to look at himself in the mirror in the morning, to not wanting to take his clothes off at night, every single moment of his day had some shame tacked onto it.

"I have to fight with myself every day just to keep living. It was easy, it would've been easy to just swallow all those pills last night and have done with it. I spit 'em out, even before I knew Mary was there, I spit 'em out again, but it was so easy and it was so... it felt like... when I put them in my mouth I felt relieved that it was all going to be over. It felt so good it scared me. _And I was ashamed." _

Vin was yelling at Chris when he hadn't done anything but ask a question; he figured maybe he was really yelling at himself. He turned to sit on the couch, and Chris followed him and sat in the recliner. Vin looked at the clock that sat on his bookshelf.

"This is it," he said. "This is when I figure it happened." Chris followed his line of sight to the little clock. Watching the sweep hand make the slow circuit around the clock face made Vin feel like his nerves were twisting up with each passing second. "I don't know how long it took. It was dark by the time I came to."

"You were unconscious that long?" Chris asked.

"No, just... stunned. In shock. Too scared to move. But the attack... I don't know. I have no way of knowing how long it... how long they were here. Half hour maybe, forty five minutes. Forty five minutes that'll haunt me the rest of my life."

Chris closed his eyes for a moment, weighing something maybe, deciding something. He could say anything he wanted, it wouldn't matter. All the things he'd said this whole past week had helped some, but not completely, not permanently. He could say any of that that he wanted to again, Vin had heard it all this past week, it wasn't going to change anything.

But his words shocked Vin.

"Maybe we should look into getting you some help?" Chris said. His voice was barely above a whisper.

"You said I didn't have to."

"Maybe I was wrong."

"_You said._"

"Vin, you almost swallowed two whole bottles of pills."

"I know," Vin said, and he felt his face grow hot.

"Maybe we should think about getting you some help."

Vin didn't know what to say. He put his head into his hands.

"All right, I'll think about it."

to be continued


	81. Chapter 81

"Chris?"

"Yeah?"

"Umm…"

At Vin's hesitation, Chris opened one eye. He was in the recliner, not moving, trying not to die in the heat of the oven that was Vin's apartment. He'd been trying to figure out some way of correcting that; the circa 40's fan at the window sure didn't make any dent. Vin was sitting on the couch, with his head resting on the back cushions. He looked worried.

"What?" Chris asked.

"I was thinking. Maybe I should. Try. Being alone in the apartment."

"You getting rid of me?"

"No. Maybe. I don't know."

Chris sat forward in the recliner. "You don't have to do it right now if you don't want to."

"It's not gonna get easier is it? If I put it off today, I'll put it off next time and the time after that and before you know it I'll be paying apartment rent just to store my furniture here and living out of your spare bedroom. That's not exactly the life I had in mind."

"How far away do you want me to go? For how long?"

Vin looked at Chris like maybe it hadn't occurred to him that to be alone Chris would have to leave the apartment.

"Where're you gonna go?"

"I can walk down to the foot of the stairs and walk back," Chris shrugged, "if that's as much time as you want."

"It may be just as long as it takes you to shut the door and step away before I'm shouting after you to come on back."

"You don't have to do this now."

"Yeah, I do."

*/*/*/*

Chris walked down to the front sidewalk, and stood in sight of the windows of Vin's apartment. He was supposed to stay out here fifteen minutes, or until Vin called him to come back in, whichever came first. He heard a whistle and turned to see Buck walking around the building, probably from the parking lot in back.

"Hey Chris. Where's Vin?"

"Upstairs." Chris gestured up to the apartment. "He wanted to see if he could be in the apartment alone for a little while."

"Well that's good. Show's he's getting back on his feet."

"I wonder if it's just -," But Chris stopped himself. He didn't want to give Buck a reason to say _'I told you so.' _

"Just what?"

"Just – he doesn't want to go for counseling and I told him I think maybe he should." Buck stared at Chris with open concern, then reached out to feel his forehead. "Knock it off." Chris batted his hand away. "I'm not delirious."

Buck grinned, but then turned serious. "What happened? What made you change your mind?"

Chris decided not to tell Buck about the pills and Vin's near overdose.

"He keeps talking about how much pain he's in, how confused he feels about everything. And I'm afraid he might be suicidal against his will. And he doesn't want to try counseling and I wonder if he's seeing if he can be in his apartment alone to prove that he doesn't need it."

"How long are we out here for?" Buck asked.

"Fifteen minutes," Chris told him, checking his watch. "Another 12 minutes now."

He waited a moment, but it didn't come.

"You gonna tell me '_I told you so'_ or not?"

"Aw now Chris. If I was to ever tell you 'I told you so', I'd be having to say it to you every darn day of my life."

"Why do I put up with you?"

"Because you love me." Buck said, giving Chris a nudge. Then he looked at Chris' face. "You look like you don't think he'll be OK up there."

"I know nothing's going to happen to him. It's just – I remember what it felt like the first time I walked into a garage after Stephen died. I know what that kind of fear can feel like."

*/*/*/*

Vin watched the closing door with something bordering on panic. He could do this. It was only fifteen minutes. He'd been known to spend four-day weekends in winter completely holed up in here, only stirring out for Sunday Mass and if one of the neighbors needed a hand. What was fifteen minutes? Fifteen minutes in his own home?

Fifteen minutes where _they_ had used up forty five minutes of his life.

He started to walk toward the bathroom, intending to force himself to be alone in there even for a second. But the door was half closed and even though he knew it wasn't so, he couldn't help feeling that there was a grotesque demon of depravity lurking in the shadows behind the door, waiting for him to set even one foot into the room so it could devour him whole and then spit him out again to lie bare, drenched, and exposed on the too-clean floor.

It was in there, he knew against reason. Its breath was the warm vinyl-and-Lestoil scent that filled the apartment, and the soft clanging of the of the hot water pipes in the wall was the sound of its bones, readying themselves for the attack, and if Vin took even one more step closer to the bathroom or turned his back to flee the apartment, _it_ would reach its claws around the door and swipe him where he stood.

And all the while Chris would be standing out on the front sidewalk, thinking everything was OK.

Vin stared at that bathroom door, almost willing the motion he was afraid of seeing there. There was nothing in there, he knew that. Nothing lurking behind the door or under the sink or in the bathtub. There was nothing in there. _There was nothing in there._

When the phone rang, he almost jumped out of his skin, and his heart pounded like he'd run a marathon. But it broke the spell of monsters in his closet and he walked the couple of steps to read the caller ID.

"Y'almost gave me a heart attack, you know that Buck," was how he answered the phone.

"Just calling to see how you're doing up there. I'm out here with Chris and he's counting the minutes down. Figured I could keep you both distracted while we're waiting."

"You might as well come on up," Vin told him.

"You okay?"

_Aside from the demons in the doorway?_ Vin looked at the bathroom; the shadows were just shadows again. "Yeah. Just kinda boring up here."

"Why don't you come on down and I'll treat us all to some ice cream."

"Ice cream?" Vin had to ask.

"Yeah. I know you can't have beer while you're on pain meds, so – ice cream. C'mon down."

"I – yeah – I…" Vin looked around the apartment again. Though the unreal threat of monsters in his bathroom had dissipated, something of evil still echoed in the dull warm silence, and it would get even louder once he turned off the fan. "Would you guys come up anyway? I don't want to be the last one out of here."

"We're on our way."

to be continued


	82. Chapter 82

Vin had barely hung up his phone when he heard footsteps on the stairs outside his door and Chris came into the apartment.

"How'd it go?" he asked, and Vin couldn't formulate a quick answer. "It'll get better." Chris added then in a low voice. "It's bound to be scary the first time you try."

"Yeah."

Buck came in behind Chris.

"C'mon, you ready to get some ice cream? There's a new Dairy Queen over near your school I've been wanting to try."

"_Dairy Queen_?" Chris asked.

"Peanut Buster Parfait." Buck said, as though that should explain it. "Hey, I'm a kid at heart."

"Just gimme a minute." Vin said, and gestured to the bathroom. "I'm just gonna - I'll just – gimme a minute."

He walked to the half-open bathroom door and hesitated before reaching in to flick on the light before putting the rest of his body in there and shutting the door behind himself.

As he washed his hands a few minutes later, he dared a look into the mirror, first checking to make sure no monsters hovered behind him, then looking closely at his face. The bruises under his eyes were pretty much gone and he thought he looked as close to usual as maybe he was going to get anytime soon. He didn't think he needed a shave, but they were going to be out in public, so he washed his face and combed his hair before rejoining Chris and Buck in his front room. He didn't take off Chris' shirt that he still wore over his own.

"I'm set." He said. "I just have to turn the fan off."

"I'll get it." Buck said, he was closer. He took the few steps and flipped the switch on the old fan. Vin closed his eyes as the apartment filled up with heavy silence.

"It's so quiet." He said.

"You're used to Cowboy and Billy and three appliances going all the time at my house." Chris told him.

"Yeah."

"Are we ready?" Buck asked. "We got ice cream waiting for us."

"Yeah, I'm ready." Vin said. They left the apartment.

"And if you don't want quiet," Buck said. "You can drive with me and I'll sing for you!"

Vin moved just a little bit closer to Chris.

*/*/*/*

Nettie spent a good twenty minutes trying to get her lawn mower out of her storage shed. The old door had swelled in last week's rain and was still swollen and wouldn't budge past the lump of tree root it normally cleared easily. She pushed and pulled and dragged and lifted and finally created enough of an opening to pull the mower shrieking from its resting place.

Well, maybe the door _didn't_ always open that easily. She hadn't mowed her own lawn at all this year; Vin had done it for her, every Friday since spring. He never said the door was hard to open but he probably never _would_ say it anyway. Maybe he went through this every Friday.

Once she got the mower out to her front lawn, it took another ten minutes of pulling and yanking on the rope to get the machine revved up and working, until she thought her shoulder would never be the same again. Was it _always_ this hard to start? God bless Vin if it was. And on a day hot enough to melt stone too.

Maneuvering the mower around her front lawn was a lot harder than she remembered it being; the old machine was balky and sluggish and by the time she'd finished her lawn, Nettie was covered in sweat and ready to collapse where she stood.

She turned around to muscle the ornery, definitely _non_ self-propelling mower to the side yard and her eyes automatically went to the front door of Vin's apartment building. She looked for Vin there whenever she came outside. This time she was rewarded – and surprised – when Vin came out of his building, behind Chris and followed by Buck. None of them looked her way. Vin had his hands over his ears and from the look of it, because she couldn't hear over the roar of the mower, Buck was belting out some song at the top of his lungs. They must be headed to the parking lot around back.

Vin didn't even look her way.

Just as Nettie was about to cut the engine and leave the mower where it sat, Mrs. Millette came out onto her porch next door. Thinning bones and aggressive arthritis had left her bowed and unsteady over her walker, but she smiled and waved when she saw Nettie with her mower.

Nettie returned the smile and wave but didn't feel it.

"_Damn._ I forgot I have to mow her lawn too.'

*/*/*/*

Buck led the way to the Dairy Queen in his truck, and Chris and Vin followed behind. The parking lot was crowded and the line was long to place an order.

"My treat." Buck said. He took their requests and went to stand in the long line. Vin sat on the hood of Chris' truck; Chris sat on the bench against the wall and put a foot up on the bumper of his truck.

"I've never been to this Dairy Queen, have you?" Vin asked.

"No, we generally go to the Tasty Freeze down on 93. I didn't know Buck liked DQ that much."

"Well, it won't be the 'Larabee Lush' I know, or the 'Wilmington Wonder' but I guess it'll just have to do."

"At least the mess in the kitchen got Mary to stop ribbing me about my laundry skills."

"_Her mother gave her that bedspread_." Vin said with a smile, and Chris had to smile too that Vin could be lighthearted now, today; back at his apartment he sure was depressed.

"And that's going to be my epitaph too I bet."

"Oh no – I'm sure you'll screw up even worse before you die."

"Gee thanks."

Buck was back in not too long awhile.

"Here we go, Peanut Buster Parfait for you." He handed one to Vin. "Another one for me, and a plain vanilla cone dipped in chocolate for Christopher _'I can't take the chance the world will come to an end if I try anything new'_ Larabee."

"Why do I put up with you?" Chris asked again.

"Because you love me." Buck answered him again. He took the seat on the bench next to Chris. Cars pulled in and out of the parking lot. "So – got any plans for tomorrow?" he asked Vin.

"Josiah's faucet is still dripping. Chris and me were talking about fixing it. Other than that -." He shrugged.

"_Vin! What are you doing here_?" A woman's voice caught Vin off guard. He turned to where a young woman was walking towards him from a car that was parked at the end of building, several cars away. It was Amanda, he recognized her this time. It still took him several seconds to answer. She walked up to him. "I didn't know you came here." She said. She sounded like finding him here was a good thing.

"Uh – well, this is the first time I've been here. Buck," Vin gestured to him. "It was his idea. Uh – Buck. This is Amanda, she works on campus. And you met Chris before. I think." He wondered if his face was as red as it felt. At least this time he didn't need a shave.

"It's nice to meet you." Amanda said to Buck but immediately turned back to Vin. "I come here every Friday after work. What did you get?"

"Uh – Peanut Buster Parfait." Vin nearly stumbled over the words.

"I've never had that, I usually get the Fudge Brownie Sundae. Can I join you when I get my ice cream?" She asked that of Vin, though there were three of them together.

"Sure, yeah, of course." He said, surprised but happy.

"Great, I'll be right back." As she started to walk to the front of the ice cream stand, Buck said,

"Now Vin, it _would_ be proper to escort the young lady so she doesn't get lost."

Vin's first reaction was to look at Chris who was staring at Buck. Buck was smiling at Vin – and so was Amanda. She'd stopped walking and seemed to be smiling in pleasant expectation.

"Oh – yeah." He slid off the truck and walked with her to the ordering window.

Chris continued to stare at Buck until he returned the look.

"What?" He said, sounding completely innocent.

"You just _happen_ to stop by Vin's apartment when you already gave back the key and you just _happen_ to invite us out for ice cream to a place where Amanda just _happens_ to visit every Friday afternoon?"

Buck grinned.

"I do love it when a plan comes together."

to be continued


	83. Chapter 83

AUTHOR NOTE: I'm sorry to anybody who reviewed or sent me a note. I appreciate everyone who reads my story and comments on it.

*/*/*/*

"That's no good."

"Buck." Chris tried to distract Buck from watching Vin and Amanda standing in the ice cream line.

"No don't stand there." Apparently they moved out of his line of sight.

"Buck."

"Don't they know not to stand where I can't see them?"

"_Buck_."

"Get out of the way," He was saying now to a grandmother who was too far away to hear him. "I can't see them with you standing there."

"Buck – would you stop staring at them? Let them get their ice cream in privacy."

"Well I'm _not_ staring at them right now on account of that old lady who's standing in my way. Doesn't she know this is important?"

"_Buuuck."_ Chris tried diverting his attention from Vin and Amanda by moving from the bench to sit on the hood of his truck, where Buck would have to look _away_ from the front of the ice cream stand. But Buck couldn't be influenced that easily.

"Okay, she got her ice cream, they should be coming this way. They're – they're - _no_! They went to sit at a table around the corner where I _really_ can't see them." Buck finally turned to Chris. "Damn, she's good."

*/*/*/*

After Amanda got her brownie sundae, Vin followed her to an empty picnic table at the other corner of the ice cream stand. She sat on the tabletop and put her feet on the attached bench. Vin did the same.

"I can't believe how hot it is," she said. "I'm so glad it's Friday. I'm driving down to Erie to visit my sister tonight. I can have the air conditioning on the whole way."

"Hot summer is supposed to bring a cold winter," Vin said.

"After this heat, I might actually enjoy it." She ate a spoonful of her ice cream. "What are you doing this weekend? Going anywhere?"

"Me? No. I don't travel. I don't like leaving home."

"Really? I love traveling. Just get in the car and go. Just go someplace just to see it. I love traveling."

"Well –I always wanted to go see Bad Axe, Michigan. Just the name of it, you know? That'd be a place to see."

"So why don't you go?"

"Go?"

"Yeah, this weekend, tomorrow. It's only five or six hours away, that's practically a day trip."

"No – it's gotta be longer than that," Vin said. "You gotta go down around Cleveland, don't you? Up through – whatever that is up there." He traced the route in the air with his spoon.

"No, go across Canada. Cross at the Peace Bridge and head for Sarnia. It's only a little more than three hundred miles. That's as close as Albany, and closer than Boston."

"So, not only do you want me to leave my home, I'm supposed to travel through a foreign country to boot?" Vin asked her, and smiled when he did it. He didn't even realize that the attack was the furthest thing from him mind at the moment.

*/*/*/*

Josiah had started out his morning puzzled to see Chris in his church. Now as he came into the church to catch a few minutes of prayer, he was puzzled to see JD, skulking in the narthex, looking perplexed.

Fridays they had Exposition of the Blessed Sacrament at the church, and the first three pews were full of Mrs. Hanratty, Mrs. Kawalski and Mrs. Paolini. Josiah would no more make noise in front of them in a church than he would speed in front of a police officer, so he motioned JD to come to the front of the church so they could go to the rectory.

JD came up the aisle and dropped a fast genuflect. He caught the glares of the three women with their ponderous rosaries and black lace veils, and he executed a more reverent two knee genuflection before hurrying to follow Josiah.

"So, what brings you to the house of the Lord today?" Josiah asked him when they were out of earshot of the Avenging Angels in the front rows.

"Oh – nothing – just I was – and I knew you were – and I thought – maybe – we could – ."

"JD – is this about Vin?" Josiah decided to prompt him to just get to the point.

"Uh – yeah," JD admitted. They went into the old kitchen and sat at the massive table. "I can't talk to Buck 'cause he's mad at me. I wouldn't even try to talk to Chris..."

"Have you thought about talking to Vin?"

"_No_," JD said, eyes wide with disbelief.

"Why not?" Josiah asked evenly. "Why not talk to Vin about what happened to him?"

"Because what – how – he wouldn't – I wouldn't –."

Instead of prompting this time, Josiah waited until there was nothing for JD to do but be coherent.

"I don't want to talk to him," he finally admitted.

"OK," Josiah said. "That's fair enough. What can _I_ tell you?"

"Well – you've known Vin longer than any of us have and I just – I just –." He seemed to get frustrated with himself. "I _can't_ figure out how he could let something like that happen to him."

"Let me ask you a question JD. If Vin came into this room right now and sat down at this table, would you get up and leave or would you stay and have dinner with him?"

"I think I'd leave," JD said honestly, after considering it a minute.

"And if you heard someone talking about him, about what happened, and they said he asked for it, that he deserved it, if they said he wanted it, would you defend him, or would you keep quiet and pretend you hadn't heard?"

Another moment of consideration passed.

"I can't defend him if I don't understand why he let it happen," he tried.

Josiah took a deep breath and tried to keep his own frustration and anger from sounding in his voice. He tried to sound as casual as possible.

"JD – if you can't approach Vin with the charity and compassion of a friend, then how is what happened to him any of your business?"

"Well – because –because –." To his credit, Josiah thought, JD knew he had no legitimate answer. "I guess then it isn't."

"I guess it isn't," Josiah echoed. "Vin's attackers picked the lock on his front door to break in. Buck didn't ask Vin why he didn't have a better lock on his door, he installed a deadbolt. Chris doesn't ask why Vin can't stay in his apartment alone yet, he's giving him a safe place to live until he feels better. That's what _friends_ do JD. If you saw Vin bleeding on the sidewalk, would you want to know if it was his fault before you tried to stop the bleeding?"

"No. No, I wouldn't do that."

"Well there's hope for you yet then," Josiah said and smiled. "You want to stay for supper? We have Benediction at seven."

"Uh, sure. Okay."

"Good." Josiah stood up from the table and went to the refrigerator to get supper underway. JD's voice followed him.

"Ezra's wondering why too. Why Vin let that happen."

"JD – if Ezra jumped into a lake, would you jump in after him?"

In true JD fashion, he answered, "I don't know. Why did he jump in?"

Josiah closed his eyes and prayed for strength.

to be continued


	84. Chapter 84

When Vin was done with his ice cream, he stood up to toss his trash in the nearby trash can. He realized how hot he was wearing Chris' shirt over his t-shirt but his mind automatically emphasized that it didn't matter how hot he was, he couldn't take the long-sleeved shirt off, especially not in front of Amanda. She would see the bruises, she would know what happened.

The thought of his bruises and the memory of how he got them came as shock to Vin as he realized that for the first time in a week, he hadn't been thinking of them at all. That was not only amazing to him, it was – refreshing. He felt like he'd gotten a second wind after a week of holding his breath.

As he pondered this, it occurred to him that Amanda had already seen worse bruises on more of his body, across his back and over his rib cage; the fading bruises on his arms weren't going to come as a surprise to her.

So he took Chris's shirt off. As he sat down next to her again, he slid Chris shirt off and held it across his lap.

"So anyway," Amanda went on, continuing another travel adventure. "I'm outside Gary Indiana, in a dead stop traffic jam, in my shaky land barge, wedged in between four tractor trailers, for an hour on a bridge that keeps bouncing with all the traffic coming in the opposite direction. _An hour." _

"Tell me again why you think I should travel?"

"No really, it's a lot of fun. You get to see new places, meet new people. You get to – to _travel_."

"_Yeah_. Dead stop traffic jam on a dancing bridge. Where do I sign up?"

They laughed, then Amanda glanced down at her watch.

"Oh darn. I have to get going if I want to get to Erie by nightfall. My sister has this thing about me driving the Thruway after dark." She threw out her own trash and Vin walked her back to her car.

"This was fun," she said as she opened her car door. "We should do this every Friday."

"Well you know _I'm_ not going anywhere," Vin said. He held the door for her and shut it after she was inside. "Drive safe," he told her. "Keep your doors locked."

"I will," she promised. Vin watched her pull out of her parking spot and then turned – and was very surprised to see Chris and Buck sitting there. He had to have walked right past them to get to Amanda's car.

"Yes, we _are_ still here," Chris said, apparently reading his surprise.

"Yeah, remember us?" Buck asked.

Vin looked down at himself, embarrassed, and pulled Chris' shirt back on, but he smiled when he heard the car horn and saw Amanda waving him goodbye again.

"_I love ice cream,_" he said.

*/*/*/*

On the way back to Chris house, Vin stared out the passenger window. His brain had the heavy dullness that accompanied his painkillers. He was thinking about his apartment. Maybe tomorrow he could try living there again. Or maybe just spend the day. Or the afternoon. Or maybe a half hour instead of fifteen minutes when they stopped by to get his tools to fix Josiah's faucet.

Somewhere in there was a workable plan, Vin was pretty sure. He leaned his head back against the headrest and closed his eyes.

*/*/*/*

The drive from the ice cream stand to Chris' house was much too quiet for Buck, who could see that no conversation was taking place between Chris and Vin in the truck in front of him.

"C'mon Larabee," he complained. "It's gonna take till you're halfway up your driveway to ask him if he liked his ice cream, much less if he's gonna meet her there again. I should've had Vin drive with me. Should never leave this kind of thing to an amateur."

*/*/*/*

Vin'd taken the shirt off. Chris still felt the surprise he'd gotten when Vin walked past them with Chris' shirt hanging over his arm. He'd barely taken the thing off to have a shower at home and here he was in his short sleeved t-shirt out in the broad daylight with the fading bruises still shadows of purple and brown on his arms. Maybe things were looking up after all.

*/*/*/*

When they pulled into the driveway and parked, Chris tapped Vin's shoulder to wake him up. Vin lifted his head and blinked around. He said, "Oh," and let himself out of the truck. Chris told him he'd shut the truck door for him and when Vin was in the house and Chris walked around the truck, Buck accosted him.

"You didn't ask him one darn thing, did you? You had the whole twenty minutes to get here and you didn't ask him one thing. You know I can't ask him in front of Mary, now how am I supposed to find anything out? I can't do this all on my own you know Chris. I was expecting a little back up from you."

"He had the shirt off," was all Chris could say.

Buck grinned. "Yeah he did."

*/*/*/*

Still dragging with weariness, Vin walked in through the front door. Cowboy ran to greet him, grumbling in his throat and rubbing the entire length of his body back and forth against Vin's legs while Vin petted him. Billy ran past with a quick "Hi Vin!" and burst out of the house looking for his father. Cowboy chased after him.

Mary came into the hallway next, drying her hands on a dish towel.

"How're you feeling?"

"Tired," he all but mumbled. He thought Mary was giving him a look, so he added, "I only took one at a time, honest. See, I still got two left." He wrangled the medicine bottle out of the shirt pocket and shook it to emphasize how many painkillers it still held.

"I wasn't going to ask," she told him. He could tell she was being honest. "I was just wondering how the day went."

_'Today' being the week anniversary._ Vin's mind turned over sluggishly. He knew that Mary knew, but he was too tired to process that information right now.

"Tired," he said again, still close to mumbling. "M'gonna go sit on the deck. That all right? I just – get some air."

"Of course – go on. I'll let you know when dinner's ready."

"Thanks."

Vin walked through the family room and out onto the deck, and deposited himself into an Adirondack chair. He could fall asleep right now, and he didn't think it was entirely painkillers. Something had changed. Like when he'd had bronchitis and after five days of pain, fever, and exhaustion it finally resolved, he'd spent nearly three days dead asleep recovering from it. That was what this felt like. As though his brain and his body had decided that now that the first week was over, it was time to move to the next level of healing.

Vin didn't know if he liked that or not.

Chris and Buck came onto the deck and Chris handed Vin a glass of ice tea. They each took another chair.

"You fellas done talking about me?" Vin asked as he took the glass.

"No, but we figure we can catch up later," Buck told him and smiled. "Unless you care to share now."

"I think –," Vin started to answer, though he knew it wasn't the information Buck was none-too-subtly hinting around for. "I think maybe this weekend, I could maybe move back home."

He looked at Chris as he said it, not sure what kind of answer he'd get. He wasn't sure what kind of answer he _wanted_ to get.

"Because you _want_ to move back, or because you think you _have_ to?" Chris asked.

"Both, I guess. Not 'have to' that I think you want me gone, but 'have to' because –," Vin searched his mind for the words that conveyed what he felt. " – because I'm not a coward and I'm tired of being scared. Living scared isn't living."

"I don't think it's going to be easy."

"And none of us ever ran away from something just 'cause it was hard," Vin answered. "Y'got an opinion Bucklin?" he asked when he saw Buck giving him a serious look.

"Well, I agree with Chris that it probably won't be easy. I also agree with you that it's something you have to try. _I_ think it might be a bit too early still, but it ain't an 'all or nothing' proposition anyway."

Vin nodded that he agreed, and still looked to Chris for a definitive answer.

"You'll be closer to Nettie," Chris said.

"Yeah, I know." It wasn't like that situation wasn't constantly on Vin's mind along with everything else. "I don't have to see her, if I don't go outside much. And I expect I won't be going outside much."

But Chris didn't answer; Vin could see him pondering it behind his eyes.

"I got y'all on speed dial anyway. I got the deadbolt on my door." He drank some of his ice tea. "I'm not saying I'm looking forward to it, but I guess I gotta try."

From inside the house, they heard a sudden crash of dishes followed by a loud, definite curse.

"All right," Chris finally agreed as he stood up to head back inside. "But _you_ have to tell Mary."


	85. Chapter 85

Nettie took a load of laundry out of her drier and folded it into her laundry basket. She'd been going almost nonstop since yesterday evening, doing housekeeping and yard work, trying to keep from thinking about Vin.

Part of her wanted to drive right back over to Chris' house and shake some sense into that boy. Tell him that no matter what, she loved him like her own and that would never change, no matter how foolish either of them acted.

Another part of her wanted to give him the time he needed to heal, to deal with all the physical and emotional wounds he was carrying around right now, and not add the burden of her own impatience to his shoulders.

And another part of her just wanted to be able to walk up to him, take him in her arms, and hold him until he _did_ heal, because she knew, like maybe none of his friends did, how much he needed physical affection.

She also knew that her second option was her only real option at the moment, so the lawns were mowed, the garden was weeded, the woodwork gleamed, the floors sparkled, and laundry was all done. This load was mostly towels and washcloths. A gray zip up sweatshirt fell into her hands though and she had to study it awhile before she recognized it.

Vin's.

He'd been wearing it back in March when he came over for dinner then said he didn't feel well. He had a fever and got too hot under the blanket she'd put over him and he took the sweatshirt off. How it got into her laundry now or where it'd been in the mean time she had no clue.

She shook it out and laid it on the top of the washing machine to zip up before folding it. Touching it was like having Vin within reach again and she smiled as she smoothed it out on top of her clean towels.

Well, the boy was a fool, but he was family. Sooner or later he'd come to realize that.

*/*/*/*

Chris went into the kitchen and found Mary getting out the broom and dustpan to sweep up a shattered glass. "Let me get that." He took the dustpan from her and crouched down to hold it while she swept up the glass. He didn't want Vin to move home, not yet anyway. The attack was still too recent and Vin's reaction to it probably hadn't even hit bottom yet. He didn't want to force him to stay, and he didn't want to just hold the door while he left either.

"Vin thinks it's time he moved home," he said, not looking up at Mary until he said the next part. "He thinks it's time he stopped being afraid."

"I don't think it's a good idea to let him be on his own. Not yet." She didn't say why and Chris realized she didn't know that he knew.

With a stifled groan of discomfort, Chris got to his feet and threw out the broken glass. "He told me about the pills. Trying to take all his pills at once last night." He took the broom from Mary and put it and the dustpan back in their little closet next to the pantry. "I'm not sure it's such a good idea either to let him move home, but we can't force him to stay here."

"Can't you convince him it's a better idea to stay at least until after Labor Day?"

"I can try."

*/*/*/*

Vin was still in the Adirondack chair with his eyes closed when he heard the sliding glass door slide open and Chris walked out. A few seconds later Buck said,

"Oh, right. I was gonna help Mary with that." And he went into the house, sliding the sliding glass door shut again. Vin squinted one eye open and watched Chris walk around and take Buck's vacated chair. He didn't like this.

Chris tapped his knee, "C'mon, we really should talk about this." And Vin opened his eyes.

"Do we have to talk about _anything_ right now? I'm so tired I'm falling asleep."

Chris took a breath and seemed to be mentally condensing his remarks.

"Just _think_ about staying here another week. Until after Labor Day. Just until-."

"Until you know I won't off myself when you're not looking?"

"Yeah," Chris said, an honest answer that surprised Vin. "That's pretty much it. I know you, Vin. You have to be almost dying to admit you might _need_ help, much less ask for it. Especially with this -." Chris gestured vaguely toward him. "I want you here where I can see how you're feeling, even if you don't want to tell me. If you're by yourself and something happens, you know you won't ask for help."

"I've asked you for help."

"Yeah, when your car is at the garage and you need a ride to work. If it's 3am and you can't sleep because all you can think about is what happened and what you did do and what you didn't do and what you wish you would've done – would you call me? Or would you sit there alone in the dark, staring at those damn pill bottles, thinking that I wouldn't want to hear from you at 3am, even if the whole world was setting on you so hard you couldn't breathe?"

Vin stared at Chris.

"I've been taking care of myself a long time now." His voice had an edge to it, he could hear it. Chris was right - anticipating having to ask for help was like anticipating an MRI: unless he was dying, it wasn't going to happen. "I don't expect you'd be making that phone call to me either."

For a second it looked like Chris was going to argue the point, then he took another breath and gave a half smile.

"No, I don't expect I would. Not about something like this. If we had a power outage at work I'd call you first thing, no matter what time it was. But if I was just feeling sorry for myself, or even downright depressed, I'd pick up a beer before I'd pick up the phone."

"So I'll lay in some beer before I move home."

"_Root_ beer," Chris emphasized, adding unnecessarily, "You're on painkillers."

"Yeah."

Neither said anything else for a minute. Then Chris lifted his head as though a thought had suddenly occurred to him.

"Or – you never know. The power could go out at your apartment. You could call me for that. If you need to. Anytime."

Vin considered this verbal sleight of hand. It was a way of saving face for both of them.

"Or even if the lights are just starting to flicker?" he asked.

"Even if your knife drawer is stuck and you can't get it open."

"Okay," Vin conceded. "I can do that. That'd be OK."

"Okay." Chris stood up and held his hand out for Vin's empty glass of ice tea. "Dinner's got another twelve minutes. I think we're gonna eat out here."

"I'll be here."

*/*/*/*

"He shouldn't be on his own, not yet," Mary continued her argument with Buck.

"Mary, you got no say over it. None of us do. Not even Chris. If Vin doesn't want to stay, he's not going to stay."

Chris came into the kitchen and set Vin's glass into the sink.

"Well?" Mary asked, when Chris didn't volunteer. "Did you convince him to stay?"

"No, he's going to try it on his own."

"Chris," Mary started to argue again. "I don't think that's a good idea."

"Don't worry – he promised to call me if his knife drawer gets stuck. Buck – you wanna help me get the picnic table set up?"

"What?" Mary had no idea what he was talking about. "What has a knife drawer got to do with anything?" But Buck snapped his fingers in appreciation.

"Chris! That is a _great_ idea! That'll work for the both of you. I'm gonna have to remember that."

They walked back to the yard and Mary watched them go, still puzzling over Chris' remark and his lack of explanation.

"Men," she said. "I'd kill him if he wasn't so damn handsome."

to be continued


	86. Chapter 86

Dinner went OK, out at the picnic table in the yard. Dessert was strawberry shortcake, with some of the strawberries still a little frozen in their heavy syrup. Vin was tired and distracted through most of the meal. He was picturing in his mind what he needed to do back at home. The apartment was clean enough, that was for sure, but the rooms and furniture and belongings still bore the scars of _them_ breaking in and ransacking his home. He couldn't decide if he should just burn anything and everything that had their mark, or try to live with it, or repair it, or what.

He didn't think he could live with constant reminders, but then again, he'd have reminders the rest of his life whenever he saw the scars on his body. And he couldn't very well burn those.

A cell phone rang then and Buck pulled it out of his pocket.

"Wilmington," he answered. "Yeah – Gus – have you got something?" He stood up from the picnic bench and walked away. After a moment's hesitation on the top step of the deck, still on the phone, he went into the house.

"Must be work," Chris said.

"Since I don't think he's dating a _girl_ named Gus," Vin agreed. The hair on the back of his neck stood up though when Buck came back onto the deck and looked right at him.

"I need to talk to you, Vin," he said, his voice deep and serious. Vin didn't think he'd be able to draw a breath to answer.

"Uh – sure. Inside?"

"I'd prefer it."

"Vin?" Chris asked. Asking _you want me to come with?_ Vin looked at him, then at Buck, but Buck shook his head.

"Not yet Chris. I need a minute with Vin."

This was not good.

Vin's legs were shaking as he stood up and followed Buck through the sliding glass doors, through the family room and out into the front hallway. He couldn't imagine what Buck wanted to say to him, but he felt like throwing up all the same.

"We've got an ID on one of your attackers."

"_What_?" Vin asked, as much because he couldn't believe it as that he was sure he couldn't have heard correctly.

"We got a match through AFIS, through fingerprints. My friend Gus in Latents ran 'em for me."

"You know who one of them is?" He had to ask, after a pause of continued disbelief. The need to throw up was getting worse.

"Yes, we do." Buck sounded like he was using his official cop voice. "That's why I didn't want Chris in here. He'd strangle me for the information then go find the guy and kill him."

For a moment Vin couldn't think why that would be such a bad idea. Then another thought occurred to him.

"You've got his address? Does he live near me? What was he arrested for before that you've got his fingerprints? He couldn't break in and hurt Nettie could he?"

"No, he doesn't live near you. But that's only _him_. We don't know about the other two," Buck paused. "Yet."

"Yet? What does 'yet' mean?" To his own ears Vin sounded panicked. '_Yet'_ didn't sound like an idea he wanted to be part of.

"I mean – we can pick this guy up and bring him in for questioning."

"_NO._" The forceful answer came out without thought or coherent reason behind it. "No – no – what – no." Vin shook his head and turned to walk away from Buck.

"Vin -."

"No. Pick him up? Talk to him? Look at him? Go to trial? What - _no_."

"Don't jump ahead to trial Vin. It doesn't have to go to trial, but we can sure put the fear of God into him in the meantime. Besides – they did assault you physically. We can get them on breaking and entering, burglary if they took anything from your house, plus trying to molest your little friend Maria there. It doesn't have to be the rape."

"Can't you just go kill him?" Vin asked with some desperation. "Can't you just hunt him down and shoot him and leave him lying there bleeding wishing for death because it just hurts too much? Can't you just do that?"

"Don't think it hadn't crossed my mind," Buck said. He looked at Vin a minute, some thought or decision being worked out behind his eyes.

"He ain't an angel anyhow, Vin," he said after that minute. "If nothing else, we'll keep an eye on him. He's bound to cross the line again and we can get him for the next crime he commits."

"Yeah." Vin let out on a dispirited sigh. He thought he should thank Buck for letting him know, but he couldn't bring himself to say it. "Are you gonna tell Chris?"

It seemed for a second that Buck was going to say 'No' or hedge his answer. But he nodded. "Yeah. If I can get him alone, I'm going to tell him."

"Yeah," Vin said again. Suddenly the house seemed too small and too close. "I just – I'm gonna be out on the front porch."

"All right."

*/*/*/*

Buck watched Vin walk onto the front porch and stiffly lower himself to sitting. Then Buck turned back to the family room and sliding glass doors – and was not surprised to find that Chris had inched his way from the picnic table and was now on the top step of the deck. He gave a whistle and waved Chris in.

"What's going on?" Chris asked as soon as he set foot in the family room. His eyes swept behind Buck, looking for Vin no doubt.

"We ID'd one of his attackers," Buck said, bracing himself for Chris' reaction.

"_Who is it_?"

"Chris – we have to talk about this."

"Talk hell –."

"_Chris_." Buck enunciated his words. "We have to talk about this. C'mon out to the kitchen and let's sit."

Chris followed him into the kitchen – grudgingly Buck could tell. He yanked a chair out and sat down hard in it.

"_So talk." _

Buck took a deep breath. "Since JD heard this being talked about at the University, I need to have this guy's name run through your files, see if he's a student there. Believe me Chris, if there was a way of getting that done without letting you know about it, I'd do it. I'd go straight to Travis except I'd have to explain why I'm not involving you." He could tell that Chris wasn't agreeing, either verbally or non-verbally.

"We need to do this by the book Chris," Buck told him, then realized that might not be the tack to use. "We need to do this in the way that's the least likely to bring more pain and shame down on Vin. Some way that's likely to give him the best sense that he can finally put this behind him and get on with his life without looking over his shoulder every minute of the day."

Chris narrowed his eyes, thinking about it.

"What do you need me to do?" He finally asked. "_Besides_ promising not to rip their heads off and hang them from the University Tower?"

"All right - I need you to find out if he is or ever was a student at St. Michael's. If so, we can talk to some of his friends, maybe get a line on who the other two perps are. Can you access the school computer from home?"

"Yeah, we can use the computer in the family room." As they stood up, Chris asked, "Where's Vin? I think I should talk to him first."

*/*/*/*

Vin found he couldn't sit too long in one spot. He paced the short walkway from the porch to the driveway and back again a few times. He could feel his heart pounding and the nausea he felt before was now compounded with lightheadedness.

Knowing the name and address of one of the attackers was halfway to making them real people and Vin didn't want them to be real people. He wanted them to stay the unknown, unnamed, blur of pain and fear that they'd been this whole week. If they stayed the monsters in the closet he could pretend they didn't exist and live his life around their constant, shadowy presence and only have to worry about avoiding them inside his mind. If they were real – he didn't want them to be real.

"Vin?" Chris' voice reached him from the porch. Vin stopped pacing but couldn't walk the ten or fifteen feet that was between him and the porch. He crossed his arms, then uncrossed them and shoved his hands into his pockets.

"I thought this day was turning out pretty good, but this just sucks."

"Yeah, it does," Chris agreed.

"I don't want them to be real," Vin said, and Chris gave him a grim look.

"_If they're real, they're easier to kill." _

to be continued


	87. Chapter 87

6pm found Vin sitting on Chris' front porch with his arms around his knees, and his head resting on his arms. Around him the heat of the afternoon seemed to be pressing hard even as it also seemed to suck the life out of him. He knew he could go inside where it was cooler with the fans and air-conditioning, but he didn't think he could stand to be near anybody just now.

So – true to the luck Vin felt he'd been having all day, the front door opened and Mary came out. Vin's nerves were stretched so thin and his muscles were so coiled for flight that if she as much as _looked_ like she was going to sit down next to him, he was out of there.

But she only handed him a tall glass of iced tea before going back into the house.

*/*/*/*

Sequestered behind the folding doors of the family room, Buck pushed Chris for a promise before he'd hand over any information.

"I mean it Chris. I don't want to give you access to this information only to have to arrest you tonight for assault with intent to kill."

"You won't have to worry about the _intent_ part." Chris said. "If I start it, I'll finish it."

"_Chris._"

"I'm not promising you anything, Buck."

"Then get me into your system and get out of the room."

"The hell I will."

"I mean it Chris. On campus you might be able to get away with '_I fired three warning shots into the suspect's head_' but not on my turf."

"Don't worry about what happens after I get the information. You do your job and let me do what I have to do."

""_Chris_." Buck growled again. And the argument continued.

*/*/*/*

6:30 pm found Vin still sitting on the front porch. He'd finished the ice tea but was still dying of the heat and his own anxiety. He could hear Chris and Buck all the way from the family room. He could guess what they were arguing about, even if he couldn't make out the words. _Him._He wanted to die. He wanted to sink into the ground and rest there peacefully until so much time had passed that nobody remembered what had happened, what _was_ happening, what _would_ happen.

Chris wanted to kill the bastards, which Vin was all for. Buck wanted to put the fear of God into them, which was OK too.

The nausea had quieted down to just a general feeling of unease and anxiety, stuck in his throat and giving him a headache. If he could just get hold of all the thoughts and images and ideas swirling around in his head maybe he could try again to make sense of everything. If he could get it in some kind of order, maybe he could figure out how to go on living from this point.

*/*/*/*

"Buck -."

"Chris -."

"Buck -."

"_Chris_ -."

A standoff was in progress in front of the Larabee home computer. Buck couldn't get the information unless Chris logged him on, and Chris wouldn't log him on unless he got his own share of the information.

"Chris – I mean it. Think about this from Vin's point of view. What good's it gonna do him if you go and kill or maim or squash those bugs? You want that headline news? '_University Security Head kills friend's rapist_'? Hell, that won't just make the six o'clock news, it'll probably be all over CNN."

Well, Larabee didn't look like that would bother him too much, so Buck changed tack.

"I'm gonna be honest Chris, killing those perps might fly or even be admirable if the victim was a woman. But how's it gonna look to the people who'd make snide remarks anyway about what happened to Vin if his _male_ friend evens the score? It'll start out with he's gay and you're jealous and get worse from there. _Do you want that for Vin?_"

Chris didn't have to think about it. He knew Buck was right. He couldn't – he wouldn't – risk the whole world finding out what happened to Vin. If that meant not disemboweling the criminals, well then – he'd just have to find a quieter way of making their life a living hell. In the meantime…

He sat down at the computer and logged into the school's computer system.

"You push F11 to search and CTL-F11 to clear the screen. It searches by name or social security number. The records go back to the early 80's." He stood again and gave Buck his word,

"If he is on campus, I promise, I will let you handle it through the proper channels. OK?"

"All right Chris. You let me handle this. You take care of Vin."

*/*/*/*

By the time the evening was closing in on 7pm, Vin had resorted to prayer. He had a decent faith he figured. Nowhere near as deep as Josiah's he knew, and he would never presume to say he had a better faith than anybody else. He figured he must be somewhere in the middle, far from perfect but never giving up the struggle. Sometimes he turned to the Lord immediately, with formal prayer and a lengthy discussion of what was needed. Sometimes it was his last act of desperation, like tonight, short and to the point.

"_Just help me get through this." _

He had his eyes closed and his head resting in his hands. He couldn't think of any other way of phrasing his prayer. He sure had no clue how to get through this ordeal, so all he could do was trust that the Lord had an idea and might be inclined to share it.

If his Dad was here – and just thinking that brought tears to Vin's eyes. If his Dad was here he could get through anything, because his Dad would protect him. He'd tell Vin how to get on with his life.

A sudden thought occurred to Vin, so startling that he sat up as he considered it.

'_When the hell did I give them permission to run my life? They mighta took an hour out of it but who says they get any more than that? Why am I sitting here feeling sorry for myself when I should just be getting on with it? It's my life and they're not gonna have a say in it anymore._'

The front door opened and Vin turned. Chris was coming out, carrying two coffee mugs. Vin must've had a particular look on his face because Chris raised his eyebrows and asked,

"What?"

"I'm having one of my 'good' moments. I figured out I'm not gonna let them run my life anymore, even in absentia. There's enough other things in this world I can be afraid of if I want to be, it's not gonna be them. I'm not gonna wear myself out making exceptions for them being alive in the world. Bucklin says if they screwed up once, they'll likely screw up again and the law'll get 'em eventually. _They_ gotta be on the look out, not me."

While he was speaking, Chris took a seat next to him on the concrete porch slab and handed over a big cup of coffee.

"Sounds like somebody had an epiphany."

"No. Maybe. I was just thinking what my Dad would say if he was here. He was always saying, 'If they don't like it, too bad about them'."

"I'm with your Dad."

"Because you want to be Chris, or 'cause Buck insisted?"

"A little of both I guess." Chris admitted after a pause.

Vin nodded and started to take a sip, but stopped.

"Coffee? It's a thousand degrees out here. Why are we drinking coffee?"

"Have you taken pain meds recently?"

"Not since before dinner." Vin answered, confused. "What's that got to do with coffee?"

"The kind of day we're having here," Chris said and touched his mug to Vin's. "I added Bailey's Irish Cream."

to be continued


	88. Chapter 88

Maybe giving Vin alcohol on top of painkillers wasn't the best thing to do, Chris thought. If Mary found out, she'd be giving Chris _that_ look. With the mood Buck was in, he'd probably take _both_ of them aside for a stern talking to. If Nathan found out about it he'd be so aggravated he wouldn't be able to speak. But it'd been a hell of a day in so many ways; Chris knew he needed outside help to himself relax and he thought Vin might appreciate a change from his prescribed meds. So they sat side by side on the cement pad of Chris' low porch and drank their coffee and Bailey's.

"Josiah's a good man." Vin said out of nowhere. Neither of them had said anything for at least ten minutes.

"Yes, he is."

"You ever think about becoming a priest?"

"I'd have to think about becoming Catholic first probably." Chris pointed out. This seemed to take Vin by surprise.

"Oh." He said. He took a sip of his doctored coffee. "Oh. Yeah."

"You ever think about it?"

"Coupla times. A priest or a brother. Sent away for information from a few orders. Nothing ever came of it."

"You never told me." Chris said. Vin shrugged.

"I never told anybody."

Another few minutes of silence passed.

"I gotta tell you Vin, I don't see you as a priest." And when Vin didn't answer, Chris went on, "Not in a bad way. Just - I don't know. Just not in a bad way."

"Doesn't matter. I don't feel much cut out to be anything. It doesn't matter." Vin's voice was flat.

Maybe giving him alcohol on top of painkillers really wasn't the best thing to do. Chris said as much to Vin, who only shrugged again.

"I don't expect it's the alcohol doing it. It's just - everything."

"That's understandable."

"You remember your first drink?"

"There have been times I was happy I could remember my _last_ drink." Chris said. Vin gave a soft laugh, but it was too brief.

"My first was the night I moved in with my Aunt Diane, a week after my Dad died." He took another sip of his coffee. "Five days after he died, the day of the funeral. Her boyfriend-of-the-moment gave me a glass of Coke only he'd put rum in it. It burned my mouth and when I spit it out they laughed at me."

He added very softly, "_I hated it there_."

Nothing occurred to Chris that he could say to Vin's revelation. Instead he reached over and laid his hand on Vin's shoulder, letting it rest there.

"You're _ours_ now."

*/*/*/*

Ezra left work quite late, especially for a Friday afternoon. The inquisition into the younger Mr. James' past, present, and future employment status continued to drag on, and so Ezra's persistent migraine continued to drag on. He labored his overstuffed briefcase into the passenger seat of his car and deposited himself heavily behind the wheel. He looked forward to getting home, eating dinner, and watching PBS.

He was understandably annoyed when his cell phone rang, and he considered not even looking at it, much less answering it. But it could be Judge Travis or some other inflated dignitary who wouldn't take kindly to being ignored, so Ezra deigned to check his caller ID. He frowned in puzzlement.

Buck was calling him.

*/*/*/*

Time seemed to move a little more slowly than usual out on the front porch, courtesy of the liquor in the coffee. Sitting beside Chris, Vin eyes closed and his head dropped down, and he leaned against the porch railing. Early evening shimmered on the heat rising from the pavement and there wasn't enough breeze to move even the shakiest leaf on the trees. It was probably cooler in the house, but as long as Vin seemed comfortable, Chris wasn't going to disturb him.

Vin lifted his head though when the front door opened and Buck came out. Buck looked at Vin, then looked at Chris. Clearly there was something he wanted to say, but not in front of Vin.

"Well, I hate to cut this party short," he said with what Chris could hear was forced cheer. "But I have got me some place to be."

"What's her name?" Chris asked, hoping he didn't sound obvious, especially when Buck gave him a wide eyed expression that meant he had no name ready to give out. But Vin seemed too drowsy to notice.

"Thanks for the ice cream." He told Buck. His voice was still barely above a whisper. "Y'gotta tell me some day how you managed t'get us all there at th'same time."

"Nope, can't give away trade secrets Vin." Buck smiled and came to stand in front of Vin. "You take care of yourself; let me know if you need anything." He added the last very seriously.

"I will." And Vin dropped his head down again.

"What are you doing to the boy Chris?" Buck asked but motioned with his head that Chris should follow him to his truck. "He's plum exhausted."

"I worked a little magic with some Bailey's." Chris indicated his coffee cup as he stood to follow Buck. "_And_?" he asked when they were at the truck and out of Vin's earshot. Buck took Chris' coffee cup, still half full, and drank it down in a swallow. "Might be we got trouble. I'll explain later. I gotta go."

'Trouble' to Chris meant stand up and fix it. It didn't mean stand around and wait. He wanted to grab Buck by the ear and drag him as far away from Vin as he needed to to get the information out of him about what 'trouble' he was referring to, and then Chris intended to act upon that information.

Instead, as Buck got into his pick up, he gave a slight nod toward Vin and Chris turned to look at him, still dozing against the porch upright. Chris couldn't - wouldn't - leave him.

"I'll call." Buck promised before he drove away.

Chris walked back to Vin and stood in front of him. Vin blinked up at him.

"You should be in bed."

"Mmmm." Vin muttered and closed his eyes again. Chris couldn't tell if it was an agreement or not.

"Tomorrow's Saturday so you can sleep in."

"Goin' home tomorrow."

Chris didn't answer that because he was pretty sure he didn't like it and after a few moments of silence Vin peered up at him again. Even though he was tired and falling asleep, he managed an unmistakable glare.

"Well you can go home _after_ you sleep in." Chris conceded.

"Can't waste daylight. Been sleeping in most of a week."

"And you've _needed_ to sleep in for most of that week."

"Anybody ever tell you y'argue a lot?" Vin asked.

"Anybody ever tell you you're stubborn?"

"Mary thinks I'm sweet." Vin challenged.

"Mary has a soft spot for kid brothers." Chris wondered what kind of comeback he'd get for that, but Vin only smiled. It was sad and he was tired, but it was a smile.

"I think you're maybe gonna have to carry me up to bed." He said.

"I can do that."

After a moment or two of consideration, Vin lifted a hand and Chris took his arm to help him stand.

"Careful, I'm injured, you know." Vin pretended to complain.

'_Don't throw me down Clark._'." Chris muttered in a chirpy voice, and Vin gave him a look as he got to his feet.

"_What_?"

"Uh - it's from Ã¢Â€Â˜Christmas Vacation'? Chevy Chase?"

Vin didn't say anything, only continued to stare at him like he'd grown two heads.

"I watch comedies." Chris finally defended himself.

"I didn't say anything."

"You were thinking it."

"I was thinking maybe you inhaled helium."

With Vin on his feet, and careful not to put pressure on his spine, Chris kept a hand on his back to guide him to the door and into the front hall.

"So - what's Buck really after?" Vin asked, his voice serious. "When he left here, he looked like he'd swallowed a hornet."

"I don't know. He said he'd call."

"Do me a favor?" Vin continued as he took tired steps to the staircase leading upstairs. "If it ain't good news - don't tell me."

to be continued


	89. Chapter 89

Over a dinner of macaroni and cheese, Josiah contemplated JD. Clearly he was working something over in his mind and Josiah could only imagine it had to do with Vin. Still, when JD suddenly asked, "Am I wrong?" Josiah asked him back,

"Wrong about what?"

"Wrong about - about what I think about Vin. About what happened to him."

"What _do_ you think, exactly?"

JD either couldn't or didn't want to answer the question; he seemed to be having a hard time coming up with something to say. He looked like maybe he wanted Josiah to help him out, but Josiah wasn't about to.

"You're going to have to tell me JD. I'm not going to guess."

"Well - well - I think - I _think_ I think -." He sank back in his chair. "Maybe I don't know what I think."

"What did you think when you first heard?" Josiah prompted. This spurred a little more thinking on JD's part; his eyebrows pulled together and he stared at the table top.

"I didn't believe it, not at first. Even though I heard them describe Vin down to his address, I didn't believe it could be him."

"Why not?"

"Because." At first it seemed like JD felt that answer should suffice. Josiah's raised eyebrow persuaded him differently. "Because - I never figured Vin to be a man who'd let that happen."

"He was outnumbered three to one."

"Still." JD said, his tone indicating he felt it was the answer to everything.

Josiah nearly insisted, '_still what?_' but instead he asked again,

"So what is it, exactly, that you think about what happened to Vin."

"I guess I think that he could've kept it from happening if he'd only fought back harder."

"Then JD - yes you are wrong for thinking that. Fighting back harder would've only gotten Vin more broken bones and more general misery and they would've raped him anyway. There's no way he - or _any_ of us - could've fought off three assailants."

"But something like that, Josiah. Don't you think he would've fought harder to keep _that_ from happening to him?"

"We've established what I think: Vin fought as hard as he could and he was outnumbered and overpowered. You, on the other hand, you're acting like it's a personal insult that Vin was assaulted."

"I just never thought he'd let that happen to him."

Josiah was getting tired of this merry-go-round.

"Let _what_ happen JD?"

"You know what. This. That. The-the-" JD stuttered into confused anger. "You _know_ what."

"You can't even say the word JD. Yet somehow, for some reason, you expect Vin to apologize and explain why he ruined your life by being raped?"

"I didn't say he ruined my life."

"You're sure acting like he did." Josiah knew he was making JD angry and by now he didn't care. JD opened his mouth to snap something back at him, but his response was cut off by the ring of his cell phone.

"What?" he demanded of the caller. "What do you want Buck? So? Yeah, all right. I'll be right there."

JD shoved his chair back and stomped to the door.

"I gotta meet Buck at Inez's." he growled and slammed out of the rectory kitchen.

*/*/*/*

Trouble.

Buck could kick himself. Why had he ever mentioned the word "trouble" to Chris? Chris would take the word and work at it and worry about it until it started burning a hole in his temper. The dang thing was, if it turned out to _be_ trouble, Chris could deal with it. If it turned out to be nothing, Chris would get mad at Buck for worrying him. What a choice.

"Buck! Are you here alone?" Inez called to him, approaching the table.

"Not for long, I'm expecting JD and Ezra to join me."

"And is JD going to be running out of here again, like last time?"

"He runs this time, I aim to chase him down."

Inez sat at the table, across from Buck.

"What is going on? It's something with Vin isn't it? He was in here today with Chris and he looked about ready to jump out of his skin. Chris told me Vin hurt his back, but he didn't tell me anything else. It's got to be something more than that."

Buck considered telling and not telling. If he told, he knew that anything more than a split second hesitation would belie any casualness in the telling. Not telling would _really_ seem suspicious.

"Vin saved his little girl neighbor from some toughs who tried to molest her. They tracked him down later and beat him."

"When?"

"Last week, a week ago. Friday."

"But -." But a frozen look suddenly came over Inez's face, and she stopped before her question was formed. The look hung there a moment or two, then cleared and she smiled. "When you see him again, tell Vin that for being a hero, his next meal is free, whenever he wants. You'd like a beer? I'll get it for you."

She stood up and headed back to the counter. Buck called after her,

"You know I was a hero once. Sort of. Almost. If the fire department hadn't gotten there with their ladder and saved that little kitten before I had the chance..."

*/*/*/*

JD and Ezra approached the entrance to Inez's restaurant at the same moment, and each man seemed equally surprised to see the other there.

"Ezra."

"JD."

"You goin' in?"

"After you."

"Oh no - that's okay. You go first."

"After you, please. I insist."

"You know what they say Ezra, 'age before beauty'."

"Or in this case," Ezra said tightly, opening the door and stepping inside, "_'pearls before swine_'."

It took JD a moment. "Hey!"

Neither man wanted to sit too close to Buck. They each pulled their chairs as close to the opposite side as possible. Silence ensued between the three of them for a full minute.

"Well, Mr. Wilmington." Ezra finally gave. "You've gotten us to meet you here on the pretext of a 'problem'; what would that problem be?"

Buck looked from Ezra to JD and back again.

"One of Vin's attackers is a student at St. Michael's."

"How's that possible?" JD asked.

"Criminals don't spend _all_ their time being criminals JD," Buck said. "Some of 'em do have lives."

"How did you come by this information?" Ezra asked, a note of suspicion creeping into his voice.

"We got a hit on his fingerprints."

"_After_ that point."

"Good old fashioned police work," Buck said.

"Good old fashioned having a friend named Larabee with access to computerized school records perhaps?"

"Ezra, does it matter?"

"Nobody is supposed to access that information without proper authorization." JD said. "It says that right on the screen. Only people with _'legitimate authority acting in the student's best interest_' can access that information."

"Oh for God's sake JD, get your head out of the rule book," Ezra said, and put his head in his hands.

"You all right Ezra?" Buck asked.

"Oh, perfectly fine," Ezra answered from behind his hands. "I'm only on my - let's see - _eighth_ migraine this week. Why, I'm good enough to run a marathon."

"I'm just saying," JD persisted, "Don't you need a warrant or something?"

"Only if it goes to trial I imagine," Ezra answered for Buck, lifting his head. "Which I am assuming it shall not. Ah Inez..." Ezra greeted her as she came to the table with Buck's drink. "I'll have a bottle of your strongest. No ice."

"I - I - I don't want anything," JD said.

"What do you _really_ want Ezra?" Inez asked.

"What goes with codeine? Coffee, please. Just coffee."

"Have you seen Nathan about those headaches?" Buck asked. Inez left to get the coffee.

"Daily. He finally gave me a prescription. What with this whole James mess and - I gather Vin was on campus today but I didn't see him. Is he - uh -" Ezra didn't seem to know how to ask the question. "Is he well? Is he recovering adequately?"

"Slow but steady. A little bit forward, a little bit back sometimes." Buck turned to JD and said pointedly, "Vin and Nettie had themselves a blow up though."

"And what? That's my fault?" JD demanded. "Why does everybody keep acting like I'm the bad guy in all of this? I'm telling you Buck, between you and Josiah yelling at me all the time, I'm getting pretty sick of this whole thing."

"There's a criminal at St. Michael's, JD. How do you feel about _that_? How about the little girl they tried to molest? Or all the new freshman girls starting this semester? You're security on campus. Maybe you'll care about _that_."

"May we put away our collective rancor for a moment and return to the matter at hand?" Ezra asked. "Why did you summon us here, Buck?"

"Because - if it was just little Maria I'd get a court order to search school records and haul that fella in by his privates if I had to. But with Vin being a part of it, it could get a mite tricky. I don't want to risk blaring out what happened to him if I can avoid it. I was _hoping_ I could persuade you fellas to help me figure something out. I'd involve Chris if I wasn't so sure he'd commit murder as soon as look at the creep."

JD didn't anything and Ezra clearly couldn't decide whether or not to say anything. Finally, licking his lips nervously, he asked,

"What information do you have?"

"This." Buck handed each of them a small square of paper. "Name and address, and what classes he's registered for this semester."

"Oh no," JD said, looking at the paper. "I know this guy."

to be continued


	90. Chapter 90

Although he was tired and would probably fall asleep as soon as his head touched a pillow, Vin went back out to sit on the step of the front porch. His back ached but he was afraid that if he took a painkiller on top of the Bailey's in his coffee, the result might be even more disastrous than mixing painkillers with muscle relaxants. Even though the sun was setting, the air was hot and motionless. Cowboy lay beside him on the concrete slab, panting in the heat.

Despite his earlier conviction that he was going to take his life back, Vin felt unhappy. Not depressed, not suicidal, just - unhappy.

He hated the thought of going back to his apartment tomorrow, but he hated the thought of staying another day and night at Chris' home. Thinking of the wedge between him and Nettie made him feel sick but any way he thought of trying to make it better only seemed like it would make it worse.

And not just Nettie, the attack had caused a rift between him and JD and Ezra. And Nathan and Rain if they didn't get a better attitude. It was never easy for Vin to make close friends; having to start all over again with the same people seemed impossible.

The front door opened and Chris came out. He sat in the same spot he had left only a little while before. Cowboy lazily wagged his tail a couple of times then was still again.

"Weren't you going to bed?" Chris asked.

"Mary gave me some more iron pills, and then - I just didn't want to be anywhere," Vin admitted.

"Wanna go for a drive? Get some air?"

"I'm so tired, I doubt I could walk as far as the driveway."

"I could carry you," Chris offered brightly, but Vin didn't say anything. "So why aren't you in bed?"

"I don't want to be here. I don't want to be _anywhere_," Vin hurried to add, before Chris might think something bad. "I'm - restless I guess. I don't know. I feel like I'm waiting for a fridge or something to fall on my head."

"I know that feeling all too well."

"Does it go away?" Vin asked. Chris sighed.

"Not until the fridge falls."

*/*/*/*

"You know him _how_?" Buck asked JD.

"He grew up down the street from me, my Mom knew his Mom. I saw him around campus last semester. But he's not one of the guys I heard talking about Vin last week. I didn't recognize any of them."

"He wasn't discussing Vin, yet you lifted his fingerprints from Vin's apartment," Ezra said.

"Yeah, his prints were in Vin's apartment," Buck told him.

"So, he has to be one of the attackers."

"Seems likely."

"Do you have a photo of the miscreant?" Ezra asked. "Have you ascertained that he is also one of the group that harassed Vin's young friend?"

"Not yet. I don't want her folks to go hollerin' for his head before we've got Vin's situation under control."

"Why do _we_ have to do anything about Vin?" JD snapped.

"Because he is our friend and he has been placed in a situation as humiliating as it is excoriating," Ezra informed him.

"Why don't you speak English?" JD demanded.

"Why don't you _learn_ English?"

"_Why don't the both of you shut up,_" Buck insisted. He pointed at JD. "Look, I don't care _why_ you help me but you're _gonna_ help me nail this bastard and his friends before they hurt anybody else. He was in Vin's neighborhood, that means he was in _Casey's_ neighborhood. Why don't you think about that and maybe it'll put a little motivation in you."

*/*/*/*

Vin laid himself down on the bottom bunk, with his bare feet flat on the mattress and his knees bent to ease the pain in his back, and his parents picture held tight against his chest to ease the pain in his heart. The sun had just about set and the fan next to the desk was blowing around air that was only slightly cooler than the outside temperature. He still felt like he was waiting for that fridge to fall on his head, but maybe that's all it was, a feeling. Tomorrow was Saturday so he didn't have to face anybody at work. He'd go to his apartment and stay there, so he wouldn't have to risk meeting Nettie out on the street. If he couldn't stay at his apartment past nightfall, then he'd come back here to Chris' place. If he could stay at the apartment, then that would be a step toward getting better.

He tried not to think about the fact that Buck knew who one of his attackers was. He hated that fact. Chris seemed to take a grim pleasure in it, saying that if the attackers were real they could be killed. That was another one of those comments that people might think Chris was exaggerating on, but that people who knew him would know was serious.

Vin held the picture away from himself and looked at it. The faces of his parents were as familiar to him as his own was, and still he felt like he could look at them forever and still not have them perfectly committed to memory.

He had mother's features and his father's hands - both in shape and in ability. He'd never see them again in this life and yet they'd always be there.

He kissed the picture with his fingers, closed his eyes and went to sleep.

*/*/*/*

Vin shut the door to his apartment, turned all the locks, and leaned back against it. It wasn't so much weariness from walking up the staircase that made him hesitate there, as it was not wanting to be any farther into the room than he had to be.

There was some weariness too, he couldn't deny that. Just getting out of Chris' house had been almost too hard to accomplish. Mary didn't want him to go, Chris didn't want him to go, apparently his truck didn't want him to go either since it took a few tries to get it started.

Once he finally got to his apartment building, he had to brave the short walk from parking lot to front door, consciously making himself not look toward Nettie's house, then from the front door up the stairs to his own door, trying not to drag his duffel bag along beside him in one hand while in the other hand he carried the pole fan that Chris had insisted he take. So there was some weariness mixed in with the reluctance to psychologically enter his apartment as well as physically.

Mary had insisted he have breakfast before he left and when he considered that his only alternative might be the drive through at McDonalds, he agreed. Chris had carried the duffel bag and the fan to the truck for him and offered once verbally and a dozen times non-verbally to at least follow Vin to his apartment in his own truck. But Vin turned him down. If he let Chris go with him, he might not let Chris leave again. Vin'd heard stories of parents reluctantly sending their children off into the world on their own; now he knew what it felt like to be the kid.

The apartment was hot, so Vin set about getting the fan plugged in and set up in front of his windows. Then he took his parents' picture out of the duffel bag and set it on top of the television. Then he thought about going into his kitchen to check on the condition of his refrigerator but the kitchen was still a little too close to the bathroom and Vin didn't want to wander too close there just yet. He knew he'd have to sooner or later, but just not yet.

If he couldn't go into the kitchen, he couldn't go into his bedroom, so he couldn't put away the clean clothes Mary had packed into his duffel bag. So he left the duffel bag next to the front door and went to stand in front of the fan for a bit.

It felt strange to be home, like he'd never lived here, and like he'd never been away. The smell of Lestoil and vinyl was still noticeable but less than before. The bloodstained footprints were gone from the carpet, courtesy of Chris' elbow grease, and the rest of the apartment was tidy, if still looking a little roughed up.

He considered what to do next. Normally on Saturdays, he cleaned his apartment, did the dishes, did his laundry, watched TV, surfed the web, went grocery shopping, read a book, paid his bills, ate junk food, and generally just hung out. Today, _this_ Saturday, all he had to do was jump back into his life the way a person might jump onto a moving escalator; the first step was the hardest. Today, the apartment was clean, his dishes were clean, his clothes were clean, and hopefully he wouldn't need any groceries. Later on, he'd probably drive over to Josiah's rectory and work on that kitchen faucet, but not until later in the afternoon, coincidentally just in time for supper.

So what did that leave right now? Paying bills, watching TV, eating junk food. Sure, that would be easy. Just as soon as he could bring himself to walk close enough to the bathroom to get into the kitchen.

Staying in front of the fan, Vin looked around his apartment again. He'd only lived here since January, but it was the nicest place he'd lived since his Dad died. It was the place he wanted to be when he didn't feel well. The place he watched all his favorite TV shows and all his rented videos. This was the place he invited his friends and celebrated holidays. This was home.

Considering all that, it didn't take long for Vin to make up his mind to challenge the monsters in his bathroom. He couldn't get the rest of his life back if he didn't feel safe in his own home, and he was going to feel safe. He took a deep breath and took determined steps towards the small room. He didn't even break stride when he reached out to take his parents' picture off of the TV to carry with him. He pushed the bathroom door open so hard it slammed back against the wall and he realized that his heart was pounding as he stepped into the bathroom. He didn't flip the light on, and with no window, he stood in dim shadows.

No obscene voices echoed, no ghastly visions rose up, no sickening memories overwhelmed Vin. The bathroom was as clean and orderly and quiet as the day he moved in.

He stood there and stared for a long while into that small, silent space, willing the memories to come, daring them to do their damnedest. This was his home and those memories were going to be no more substantial than the shadows he was standing in. Sure, his body still hurt and the scratches and bruises were still fading, but they would be the wounds of survival, not the reminders of failure. A crime had been committed against him. Those criminals had taken enough of his life, they weren't going to have anymore.

With one final look, Vin turned his back and walked out of the bathroom.

to be continued


	91. Chapter 91

Nettie carried a full plastic bag to her garbage can out back. From habit, she glanced over the fence that separated her yard from the parking lot next door, looking for Vin's truck. Usually on Saturdays when she saw his truck there, she'd call him up and invite him over for breakfast or lunch or dinner. Sometimes he came, sometimes he didn't. Usually when he did come over, he spent a lot of the rest of his day at her house, not doing much other than talking or watching TV with her or helping her around the house despite her telling him he didn't have to. He always seemed most comfortable when he could be doing something, changing a light bulb, fixing a lamp, tightening a door knob.

So, out of habit, she looked, and her heart jumped when she saw Vin's truck in the parking lot. He was there, he was home. She stood there a moment, her bag of trash held motionless over the garbage can, just staring at the truck. Vin was there, in his apartment, only a hundred yards away from where she stood right now.

After a moment, she dropped the bag into the garbage can and turned to go back into her house.

*/*/*/*

The refrigerator wasn't as bad as Vin had been expecting. Nothing green scurried away from the light, no furry shapes peered at him from behind the Velveeta. His condiments still stood grouped together on one side of his top shelf, with the loaf of whole wheat bread, jar of peanut butter and tub of butter huddled on the other side. His milk wasn't expired yet. His individual servings of chocolate pudding, Jell-O, and yogurt hadn't expired.

Life was good.

He grabbed a can of root beer from the bottom shelf, intending to stretch himself out on the couch for a morning of TV and nothing else. Behind the cardboard container though he saw a plastic container holding the remains of the potato salad Nettie had given him the week before last. It was nearly empty and surely past its prime by now, but Vin didn't make a move to toss it out. He stared at it, remembering the weight of it as Nettie pressed it into his hands, feeling the warmth of her arm around his shoulders as she sent him home that Wednesday night after the impromptu barbecue in her yard.

He missed her, and he'd take every single thing back if he could. He just didn't think she'd give him the chance.

He let the refrigerator door swing shut, and went into the front room to the couch, stacking the pillows to cushion his back, and switched the TV on with his remote. Flicking through the channels he settled on a two hour documentary on haunted places in America. He'd only taken one painkiller this morning, so he wasn't falling asleep and the pain in his back was minimal at best. He set the remote on the back of the sofa, took a long swallow of root beer, and settled against the pillows for a nice, quiet morning.

*/*/*/*

Almost without thinking, Nettie started making a lemon poppy seed coffee cake as soon as she set foot into her kitchen. Vin liked her coffee cake and as soon as it was out of the oven, she'd bring it over to his apartment and talk some sense into him. It was two days since the scene on Chris' front porch; Nettie had had time to think about it and she was sure Vin had taken some time to think about it.

If they were ever friends, and they _were_, they were still friends. More than friends, Vin was as much part of Nettie's family as Casey, and sometimes you screamed at your family because you knew they loved you enough to forgive you. Nettie had forgiven Vin, and she'd finally forgiven herself. She hoped he'd had enough time to forgive her too.

When the bell on her timer rang, she took the pan out of the oven and set it into a brown paper bag. She folded the top over, picked it up, and headed for Vin's apartment.

*/*/*/*

Just as the TV program on hauntings showed an undulating, misty, dark-eyed, clearly unhappy ghoul advancing on an unsuspecting dairy maid walking a lonely road in the middle of a black night, a knock on his front door startled Vin. He immediately muted the TV using his remote and focused all his attention on the door. Especially the deadbolt lock. Just as he was thinking it was a stupid idea to leave the safety of Chris' house and wondering if his heart would stop pounding so fast, he reminded himself that he was taking his life back, and part of that was not being afraid. He got up from the couch and approached the door.

As he got close to the door, there was another knock, and he reminded himself too that there was a difference between bravery and stupidity and who said he was required to answer the door just because somebody was knocking? That wasn't a law. He didn't have to answer the door if he didn't want to. Nobody said he had to.

He thought about looking through the peephole, but he was afraid he'd only see one big eye peeping back at him. Suddenly realizing he still had the remote gripped in his hand, Vin turned the locks and opened the door.

There stood one of the biggest men Vin had ever seen. Thick black hair covered his head, his upper lip, and most of the skin exposed under his white "wife beater" muscle shirt. He was tall and wide and angry looking.

"Hey Lou," Vin said, feeling his heart start to slow down.

This was Maria's father.

"You OK?" Lou asked.

"I'm gettin' there."

"I didn't get the chance to thank you for saving Maria last week, and you ain't been around since I heard you got hurt too. You know I woulda thanked you as soon as I saw you. It's only `cause I saw your truck in the lot now that I knew you're home. I had to come thank you."

"It's OK, you don't have to thank me. I -." Vin was about to say, _'I would've done it anyway.'_ but he couldn't say for sure right now that that was true.

"You need anything, you let me know. The fella that saves my little girl don't walk away with nothing." Lou said emphatically.

"Thanks, I appreciate that. But you don't have to - "

"We look out for each other around here. We take care of our own, you know that. You see those creeps again, you tell me and I'll cream `em from here to Bermuda for you. We take care of our own around here."

"I appreciate that." Vin said again. He knew that Lou probably _could_ cream anybody he chose to; each of his fists had to be as big as both of Vin's put together, and he was big but it seemed to be all muscle. But his perpetual scowl camouflaged the heart that was the only thing bigger than his fists. And everybody in the building knew that his petite wife had him completely wrapped around her tiny pinky. They were two of the nicest people Vin had ever met. "I hope I never see those creeps again."

"Just the same, if I ever see `em, they're dog meat. You sure you don't need something? You ain't been home all week. My Synta thinks maybe you could use some food so she's making a lunch to bring over to you later. And supper too if you need it. Anything you need, from now until never, you just gotta ask. There's nobody in this building wouldn't do the same for you that you did for Maria."

Vin wouldn't let himself consider that statement. He knew Lou meant anyone would intervene if they saw him being harassed, but even though he knew that Lou didn't know, it felt like an inference to the rape and he wouldn't let himself think about that.

"Is Maria doing OK?" he asked instead.

"She's OK. She's out with her friends at the mall. Won't let her Mom shop for her school clothes. High school kids." Lou shook his head. "She's OK."

"I'm glad. She's a good kid."

"Pretty and smart, just like her Mom." Lou bragged. "You go back and rest now and Synta'll be by later to check on you. There's nothing that's gonna need you worrying about it for a long while."

"OK, thanks Lou. I expect to be meeting Fr. Sanchez for supper, but I'll be here until this afternoon anyway."

"OK, you rest `til then and call if you need anything. _Anything_."

"I will."

"OK." And Lou turned to go back to his apartment, and Vin shut and locked his door again.

*/*/*/*

JD drove a little faster than he should have, heading for Nettie's house. He'd been awake most of the night, thinking about what Buck said - that Vin's attackers had been in this neighborhood at least once, so they could be in this neighborhood again, and that he should worry about Casey. He'd also been thinking that one of the attackers was a childhood acquaintance of his.

He pulled in front of Nettie's house, facing the wrong way down the street, and met her as she was just coming out of her house.

"Is Casey here?"

"Hello to you too," Nettie answered.

"Hi. Is she here?"

"No, she's gone to work at the market today, a friend of hers had to call in sick. What is the matter?"

"Nothing. Uh - nothing. I - uh - just - nothing." JD wanted to turn right around and drive to Bishop's Fresh Market where Casey worked and make sure was safe and okay. But he couldn't get his feet to turn that way.

"Something on your mind?" Nettie asked him.

"Y-yeah. I guess there is. Can I talk to you?"

"Of course you can. Come on in."

*/*/*/*

Vin set himself back against the pillows on his couch and rejoined the TV program to discover the dairy maid had apparently died of fright. Now other villagers were gathering in frightened mob to discuss the possibilities.

Lou's sincere and emphatic gratitude and concern humbled Vin. Everybody in the building was friendly to everybody else; it was a small building, if people didn't get along, they generally didn't stay. But Vin had never considered that he held any special place with any of his neighbors.

Except one.

He looked around his front room, but he didn't have a picture of Nettie anywhere in his apartment. He had a couple probably stuffed in a drawer somewhere from his birthday picnic, same as he had pictures of the guys stuffed away somewhere. The only things on his wall were a small crucifix on the wall over the TV and a calendar over the stove in the kitchen. Other than that, the walls were bare.

Vin didn't know if he'd be able to look at a picture of Nettie right now; it'd probably remind him too much of what a jerk he'd been to her the other night. She'd never forgive him. She was mighty particular how she'd be treated and it sure didn't include being hollered at and called a liar to her face. She'd never forgive him.

But Vin didn't know if he could tolerate a life that didn't have Nettie in it. Whenever he was around her - used to anyway - he always felt like the person he always wanted to be. Nettie always seemed glad to see him. She fussed over him when he was sick, chided him when she thought he was wrong, listened to him when he wanted to talk, let him be silent when he had nothing else to say. She loved him maybe, and if she did, she'd forgive him. All he had to do was ask.

*/*/*/*

Nettie led JD into her kitchen. She set the coffee cake onto the counter and addressed JD.

"Now what's all this about?"

"I know one of the fellas that attacked Vin." He blurted.

Nettie felt her left eyebrow go up so far it hurt. If it turned out that this was someone JD had exposed Casey to, she was going to dig out her husband's old razor strop and make good use of it. She didn't say anything, but JD had to know what she was thinking.

"I mean, I _knew_ him. Back where I grew up. He lived down the street from me. I saw him around campus last semester, but I didn't - we didn't - I didn't talk to him or anything. It's not like he's my friend or anything. I just - I knew him back when I was growing up."

"And how do you know who one of the attackers _is_?"

"Buck. Fingerprints. From Vin's apartment. They found the names of two of them anyway."

"Do they live in the neighborhood?" Nettie asked. She worried for Casey and for Vin running into them again.

"No, at least those two don't. I mean - they live in the city but over near the stadium, not around here. They don't live around here."

"And what's Buck going to do about it?"

"Nothing. Nothing yet." JD sounded nervous about something. "He doesn't want Vin's attack to be public news. But he's gonna watch them and catch them for anything else that he can."

Nettie let all this sudden information settle on her. Buck had identified two of Vin's attackers. At least one of them went to St. Michael's University. At least he did last year. She knew the world was smaller than it seemed; this was just too small.

"Is this what you wanted to talk to me about?" she asked.

"Yeah. I mean, no. I mean - you said Casey's at work? I have to go see her. I want to make sure she's - I'll see you later Nettie."

JD all but ran out of the house. Nettie shook her head and started to pick up her coffee cake to resume her trek over to Vin's, but then she changed her mind. Just because he was home, didn't mean he wanted visitors. She loved him like her own and knew that he loved her too, but that didn't mean invading his privacy was a good thing.

Before she showed up on his doorstep, she decided she'd call him first.

*/*/*/*

Vin was in his bathroom when the phone rang. He washed his hands and hurried to check the caller ID while it was still ringing.

He smiled when he saw who was calling.

"Josiah! I was gonna call you in a little while."

"Vin - I called over to Chris and they said you'd gone home. I wanted to see how you're doing."

"OK. So far. Don't know what'll happen after nightfall, but I'm okay so far."

"Good. That's very good. I'm glad it's going well for you. I know it's a big step but it'll be worth it."

"I hope so. Lou came knocking on my door and I near had a heart attack. I sure hope it gets easier. You know, I was gonna come over later to work on that faucet."

"Any particular time in mind?"

"I thought I might come for 4:30 Mass, then work on it after that."

"Great! You can join me for dinner."

"Well, if you insist, I reckon I could be persuaded." Vin said. "But only if you insist."

"I absolutely insist." Josiah said. "I have to let you go now, I have a meeting to get to. I'll see you for Mass then."

"OK Josiah. Thanks for calling."

After they hung up, Vin decided he'd just head over to Nettie's and ask her forgiveness. If she said no, he was no worse off than he was right now. If she said yes, then he'd have a huge piece of his life back.

He turned off the TV, checked that he had his keys with him and left the apartment. Once he got to the front door, he turned to go behind the building to his truck first. He had a book on antique furniture floating around in there somewhere he thought maybe Nettie would like. He'd gotten it at a book sale at the library at the beginning of summer and never took it out of the truck. That'd be an excuse for going over to see her. That would work.

*/*/*/*

When Nettie called, Vin's line was busy. So maybe calling first wasn't one hundred percent necessary. Even if he was still mad at her, he couldn't refuse her lemon poppyseed coffee cake, so a face to face encounter was the best bet. She picked the coffeecake up again and headed for Vin's apartment. She went into the building, climbed the stairs, and knocked on his door, feeling her heart beat harder in anticipation.

Several seconds passed and nothing happened. She knocked again. Still nothing. She couldn't hear anything through the door, and enough time had passed even if he was coming from the farthest room of the apartment. Maybe he wasn't home after all. Maybe they'd just dropped his truck off in the parking lot.

She turned to go home again.

*/*/*/*

Book in hand, Vin took the short cut of a tight squeeze through the fence between his parking lot and Nettie's yard. He tried to act casual. He tried to look like he was acting casual. He'd taken this short cut a hundred times to her back door. This was easy. This should be easy. It was only the scariest short cut he'd ever taken in his life.

He went to her back door. Normally, he'd feel free to open the storm door and turn the knob on the inside door. If it turned, he'd go in. Could he still do that? If he rang the door bell, would it seem too much like he was trying to stay distant? If he opened the door and walked in, would it seem like he was taking too much liberty? Was life really _always_ this hard?

He took a deep breath and quietly opened the screen door and tried the knob. The door was locked. Usually, in the hot weather, if Nettie was home, she'd hook the screen door and leave the wooden door open for ventilation. Her car was in the driveway, but maybe she was visiting a neighbor. She did that a lot. Maybe Mrs. Millette.

He gave the doorbell a try anyway, but after half a minute or so, nobody came to the door. Casey must be gone too. Maybe she was out at the mall like Maria. Disappointed, Vin squeezed through the fence again to head back to his apartment.

*/*/*/*

As Nettie approached her house, she was sure she heard her doorbell ring. It was faint, but her windows were open and it sounded like her back door doorbell had rung. Nobody since she gave up home delivery of milk back in the 60's had rung her back doorbell, other than as a prank. She set her coffee cake down again on her front steps and walked around back to see what was going on.

*/*/*/*

Every single time Vin had gone through this shortcut before, he'd never had any problem. Now the back of his shirt - the back of _Chris'_ shirt - was hung up on some suddenly-come-loose piece of wire. He knew he hadn't gained weight since the last time he was through here, why the heck was he getting hung up now? He didn't want to tear the shirt, so he carefully shrugged out of it and slid through the fence to disentangle it. As he walked across the parking lot, he gave the shirt a careful once or twice over. The fabric was dented a little but not torn, not even a puncture. Of all the odd times for that to happen, he just didn't know.

*/*/*/*

Coming into her yard, Nettie saw movement out of the corner of her eye and she turned to look. There was Vin, all the way across the apartment building's parking lot. He was putting that long sleeved shirt on over his t-shirt. Another two steps and he'd be around the corner of the building and Nettie was pretty sure she couldn't get to the front door of his building before he did. From somewhere deep inside, desperation filled her.

"_Vin_!" She called, without even thinking, louder than probably she needed to be. She'd never yelled so loudly in this neighborhood and she'd lived here since Kennedy was in the White House.

There were a few long frightening moments while she waited to see if he heard her. He had to have heard her. Mrs. Stempniak probably heard her and she was stone deaf. If he heard her and he didn't respond, she didn't know what she'd do.

*/*/*/*

Relieved that Chris' shirt had no damage, Vin slid it back on and headed back to his apartment, his couch, and another can of root beer. He tossed the small book into the air, letting it twirl end over end a few times before he caught it again. Nettie would have to be home eventually. He'd see her before the end of the day even if he had to camp out on her porch.

Just as he reached the sidewalk on the far side of the parking lot, he heard his name called. He stopped dead and turned to where it came from.

_Nettie_.

Standing at her fence, her hands gripping the wire so hard he could see her knuckles were white even from where he stood so far away from her.

He took one step toward her, then another, then he was running to her. She held her arms out to him and he grabbed her in a hug, even with the fence between them and she grabbed him back just as hard.

to be continued


	92. Chapter 92

Vin sat in the rocking chair and stared out the bay window. The white opaque drapes camouflaged the fact that the window looked out onto Nettie's narrow driveway and the backside of his apartment building. He still the book of antiques in his hands.

Hugging Nettie was one of the best things Vin had ever done, but running over to her was turning out to be one of the stupidest. By the time he'd slid through the fence again and followed her up her back staircase to set himself into one of the upholstered rockers in her dining room, his back felt like he'd been stabbed and the knife was still in there.

He heard Nettie come into the room, and felt her hand settle warm on his forehead.

"Honey, are you all right? You're as white as those drapes."

"My back hurts is all."

"Oh honey, your spine. I shouldn't have hugged you so hard."

"No Nettie, believe me - it was worth it."

She sat in the rocking chair opposite Vin and asked him, "So tell me, how big a fool have I been?"

"No bigger'n usual I reckon." Vin tried hard not to smile but he couldn't stop it. He could tell by Nettie's expression that she caught on pretty fast to his jibe. "I hate to ask how big a fool I been."

"It wouldn't be fair to call you a fool after all you've been through honey. You were hurt and you were in pain. A man in that condition has got the right to react anyway he needs to."

"Chris said something just like that too." Vin said, then thought, "Well, maybe you don't like being compared to Chris Larabee."

Nettie considered it. "I guess me and Chris are a lot alike. Both stubborn, both have to be right all the time. But I never knew a man who stood up for his friends as strong as he does. I wish I had more of that in me. He's a good man."

*/*/*/*

"Christopher Larabee, you touch that phone one more time and I'm taking it away from you." Mary said from behind her paper. They were on the deck in back. "It's not broken. The reason it's not ringing is because Vin isn't calling. Josiah said he sounded fine."

"I'm not checking the phone."

"Oh?" Mary looked around her paper at the cell phone in Chris' hand. "Are you keeping it from getting lost?"

Chris set it down on the table next to his Adirondack chair and sighed.

"I just want to be sure he's OK."

"Are you going to be this overprotective when Billy moves away from home?"

"Billy is never moving away from home." Chris told her flatly. Now Mary sighed and went back to reading her paper.

"Imagine what you'd be like if we'd had a _girl_."

*/*/*/*

Vin was surprised to realize he had dozed off in Nettie's rocking chair. He woke up, covered with a thin blanket, and with a slightly stiff neck. Nettie sat across from him, reading the book on antique furniture.

"How long since you've gotten any rest?" she asked, when she saw he was awake.

"Sometimes it feels like I don't do anything _but_ sleep."

"Sleep is different from rest. You can sleep and get no rest."

Vin considered her remark and knew she was right.

"I really couldn't tell you Nettie. Probably before all this happened.

"And when was the last time you had something to eat?"

"Ohhh, a hundred years ago I think."

"Well, you'll eat something now." Nettie informed him, and Vin was grateful for her insistence.

"Okay.¦" He started to get up, but she pushed him back down again.

"You just stay there and rest honey. I'll bring it in." So he shut his eyes and rested his head back against the rocker. In a few minutes, he heard her come back in the room. When he opened his eyes, he saw that she carried two old TV tables. She set one up next to each rocker at the bay window. "I have herbal tea, I hope that's okay?"

"Yeah, I like herbal tea." Even to his own ears, Vin's voice was barely breath. "Y'sure I can't help you?"

"You can help me by staying in this chair so I don't have to pick you up off the floor." Nettie told him, punctuating her gentle chide with another hug. "Honey I'm so glad to have you back, I can't even tell you.¦"

Vin leaned into her embrace again, with no reservation.

"Me too Nettie."

*/*/*/*

In a little while, Nettie had them both set up with turkey sandwiches, slices of her coffee cake, and herbal tea. Vin took a bite and drank some tea, then looked up as if something had suddenly occurred to him.

"Lou said Synta was gonna bring me over some lunch. I should let her know I'm not at my place."

"I'll call her after awhile. Don't worry about that."

Vin nodded his thanks.

"Lou was real grateful I took care of Maria that day. I think I could ask him to kill someone for me and he'd do it. I think he'd only have to _think_ I wanted somebody dead and he'd do it."

"That doesn't surprise me. Fathers can be awful particular about their daughters."

"I wonder what he'd think if he knew…" Vin's voice trailed off like he was talking to himself. Nettie figured what he was talking about.

"Not everybody is codgy as me honey. I know Lou and Synta aim to take care of you, and I expect they'd only take more care of you if they knew how bad you'd been hurt."

"Well, I hope I never have to find out. Too many people know already what happened to me."

He chewed awhile on a bite of sandwich and Nettie watched him over her own meal.

"I'm glad I know." She told him. "I know I've been a fool this past week, but now that I'm in my right mind again, I'm glad I know. I want to be able to help you. I want to know, when you're all right, that you truly are all right."

Vin didn't answer right away. He fidgeted with his napkin a bit and didn't look at Nettie. Then he nodded and finished his lunch. Soon after he was asleep again in the chair.

"Turkey sandwiches and chamomile tea." Nettie smiled to herself as she cleared the dishes. "Puts him to sleep every time."

To be continued


	93. Chapter 93

While Vin slept in the upholstered rocking chair, with two throw pillows under his head and a light blanket over his lap, Nettie sat in the opposite chair with her knitting. She'd started making Vin a sweater earlier that summer, intending to make it a Christmas present, but she hadn't worked on it during the hot weather. She took it out again now, it made her feel like she was doing something for Vin, when this past week it seemed like she hadn't done anything but cause him pain.

She watched him sleep, watched his deep, even breathing. There were a lot of things she liked about men, and one thing that she liked was to watch a man she loved sleep. And heaven knew this man had earned it. She'd called Maria's Mom to let her know Vin wasn't at his apartment; there was nothing else to do but let Vin sleep and feed him again when he woke up.

Outside the dining room windows, the wind picked up and rain clouds crowded overhead, making the early afternoon look like early evening. Nettie considered closing the windows, but Vin didn't stir and she didn't want to risk waking him. She was so happy to have him back that if he never left her house again, that would be perfectly fine.

*/*/*/*

_"He doesn't answer."_ Chris stood in the kitchen doorway and issued his challenge to Mary as she sat at the kitchen table drinking lemonade and reading the paper.

"Maybe he's doing laundry."

"He took clean clothes home."

"Maybe he's in the bathroom."

"For how long?"

"What's the longest you've ever been in the bathroom?" Mary asked. Chris didn't answer, except to scowl at her. "Maybe he went for a walk." She tried then.

"I don't think he'd do that, not yet. Just going to his apartment was hard for him. He wouldn't go for a walk. Anyway, the weather's picking up."

"Wasn't he going over to Josiah's? Doesn't he have a bad sink?"

"Yeah. Yeah, that's right. Josiah said Vin was planning on going over for Mass and dinner. All right."

Then the phone rang and Chris picked it up.

"Hello?"

"Chris, it's Josiah. Have you talked with Vin? He was supposed to come over but he hasn't shown up and I can't get hold of him."

*/*/*/*

When Vin woke up in Nettie's chair, he could tell that he'd slept deeply and for a long time. His body felt heavy and his mind felt sluggish. He tensed and stretched his muscles, and rearranged himself in the chair, not wanting to get up just yet. He could hear Nettie in the kitchen behind him, doing dishes from the sound of it. He wondered what time it was.

He tried to call to Nettie but his mouth was too dry. He pulled himself out of the chair and tried to pull himself upright and walk into the kitchen without shuffling.

"Well, somebody had himself a nice long sleep." Nettie shut off the water and dried her hands on her bib apron. She walked over to Vin. "How do you feel, honey?"

"I'm fine, Nettie. Thirsty, but fine. Think I could have some water?"

"Of course, honey. You're not coming down with anything, are you?" She felt his forehead.

"I don't think so. Just thirsty."

"Are you sure? Maybe you should take some Tylenol anyway." She turned away and got Vin a glass of water.

"Nah, I'm on too many painkillers now, I'd be afraid to take anything else. Water'll do me. Thanks."

He took the glass from her and sat at her kitchen table to drink it. He'd forgotten what it felt like to have such freedom with her, to be as comfortable in her house as in his own.

"I haven't started dinner yet, but I can get you something if you're hungry."

"I'm fine Nettie. I was thinking -." Though the thought had just occurred to him. " - why don't you let me take you to dinner? Someplace nice, not just Wendy's."

"Oh honey, that's sweet of you, but I want to make you a nice dinner here."

Before Vin could answer, Nettie's phone rang and she answered it.

"Hello? Oh hi! Oh dear, is she all right? That's good. Of course, I'll be over in a minute."

She hung up and turned to Vin with a sigh. "Well, it looks like neither of us will get to buy dinner tonight. That was Mrs. Millette. Usually her granddaughter comes over to get her dinner and help her get ready for bed. But her baby is sick and she can't make it. So I'm going over to help her."

"Is the baby all right?"

"Oh yes, she's teething and has an earache. Normal baby things. I hate to leave you honey. You can stay here and I'll come back as soon as Mrs. Millette is set for the night."

"Thanks Nettie, but I think I'll head back to my place. Mary sent me home with a lot of clean laundry to put away. Maybe we can get ice cream later?"

"That'll be fine, honey. I'll call you as soon as I'm home."

*/*/*/*

Vin walked Nettie to Mrs. Millette's house and then headed back to his apartment. He still felt tired and slow, and he tried to remember if he had anything in his fridge he could make for dinner. In a pinch, he figured he could have a peanut butter sandwich and some chocolate milk. There had to be something in the freezer though, he always stocked up on TV dinners whenever the grocery store had a sale.

But then he thought, what the heck, why not go to Inez's for dinner? She had booths where he could sit and not be seen. He'd just run up to his apartment and grab his jacket in case it started to rain, and drive over.

When he got back into his apartment, Vin remembered that he was supposed to have gone over to Josiah's to fix his sink. Before he could pick up the phone though, there was a pounding on his door that sounded like Lou in a really bad mood.

A quick look through his peep hole showed Chris, and as he was opening the door, Vin thought he could invite Chris to Inez's place. He'd only just opened his door and hadn't said anything yet when Chris started in on him.

_"Where the hell have you been? I called you, Josiah called you. Nobody could find you, nobody knew where you were. Where the hell have you been?" _

"I've been at Nettie's."

_"All day?"_ Chris demanded.

"Well, yeah. I guess. Since before lunch."

Chris looked ready to launch another attack, then his expression changed to completely baffled and he asked, "_Nettie_? How'd _that_ happen?"

"It's kind of a long story." Vin said, thinking of the near misses he and Nettie had discussed. "I was going over to Inez's place, get some dinner. You want to come with? I'm buying."

"I - uh - well - _yeah_." Chris managed to say. He seemed even more baffled. "I want to hear _this_ story."

*/*/*/*

Ezra felt like he was moving in slow motion as he closed down his computer, locked his briefcase and shut off his desk lamp. Being a salaried employee of the University had benefits and drawbacks. One particular drawback was that, no matter how many hours one put in on the job, one did not accrue overtime: one full Saturday spent toiling over University matters had earned Ezra no more than the beginnings of another migraine and an "In" basket full of more work which he would have to undertake first thing Monday morning.

Expecting a too bright, overly warm afternoon to greet him right out of the building, Ezra was surprised to find low gray clouds and a chill wind. Unpleasant weather couldn't be far behind, so he chose the most direct route to his car.

"Ezra - did you get stuck working today too?" Nathan called to Ezra as they both headed for the staff parking lot.

"I must ask you never to use the word `_work'_ in my presence again." Ezra said. "Even were I to achieve centenarian status."

Nathan laughed and shook his head.

"Why don't you join Rain and me at Inez's? You look like you could use a night out."

Ezra didn't lose any time considering the invitation. "Thank you Dr. Jackson. I believe I shall."

*/*/*/*

JD hung around Casey's market, wanting to talk with her, until she insisted he leave and let her work in peace.

"I'll wait for you then, out in my car. When's your next break?"

"JD! I need to work. We're short-handed enough with Peggy being out sick. Can't it wait?" Casey asked as she stacked ears of corn into the display case.

"Well – I – it's kinda -." JD scanned the area around them. This was a popular market and a busy day, and he couldn't see broaching the topic in public. "I guess it could. I – I'll wait for you and drive you home."

"_What_?" Casey looked at him like he was crazy. "I don't get off work for hours and I do have my car. Why do you want to drive me home?"

"Uh – I - well -."

Before JD could stammer out some answer to that, Casey shook her head and went on with her stacking.

"Buy me dinner tonight, JD. Meet me at Inez's place after work."

to be continued


	94. Chapter 94

Two men met at Inez's restaurant; Ezra and JD pulled into the parking lot at the same time and once the greetings were over and explanations were given, they walked together to the front door in an awkward silence.

A little early for the dinner crowd, the restaurant was empty as they walked in and sat together at a small table in the middle of the room. They were silent as the waitress distributed menus, and subdued as she passed them glasses of water.

Finally when she was gone and no one was still saying anything, Ezra turned to JD,

"And how was your day Mr. Dunne?"

"I just don't get it." JD blurted.

After heaving a patient yet clearly annoyed sigh, Ezra asked, "'Get' _what_?"

"You know - _you know_."

"No, I confess I don't. Perhaps you could enlighten me."

"_Vin._"

Ezra waited a beat but JD said nothing else.

"As though that one word conveys all required information."

"You know - Vin - you know."

Ezra swallowed and then placed his hands on the table as he calmly and precisely said,

"Mr. Dunne I find myself presented with two options. I can either relocate my person to another, solitary, table. Or I can bash you on the head with my water glass. Which do you prefer?"

JD was confused.

"What'd I say?"

"_Nothing!_ That's the problem!"

"Vin - you know - how - I just don't -." With his face growing redder and his stammer getting worse, JD nearly choked on his confusion. "I still just don't see how it could happen."

Ezra sat back in his chair in aggravation. "Truly JD, I am not going to rehash this with you. What either of us believes is the cause or compulsion or coincidence which led to the intrusion upon Mr. Tanner's person -."

"No, no. I don't mean -." JD lowered his voice, though the restaurant was still empty. "I don't mean _why_ it happened. Just - just - I mean - _how_ - if - you know - I mean -."

To Ezra's relief, the door opened and Nathan and Rain came in. They joined Ezra and JD at their table.

"What's going on?" Nathan asked, after the waitress had given them their menus and glasses of water.

"Mr. Dunne was just expressing his confusion over the mechanics of sexual assault." Ezra said.

"I was not!" JD insisted. "I know how - what - how - _it_ - happens. But - I mean - _how_ - I mean -."

Nathan cut him off. "JD - when a man is outnumbered three to one, especially when those three are bigger than he is and they catch him by surprise…"

"No - that's not -."

"What difference does it make anyway?" Rain asked. "It's over and done with. Vin's back to work and getting on with his life -."

Suddenly Inez appeared at their table, breathing fire and as mad as hell.

"Shut up!" she ordered. "Shut up all of you!" Her eyes went to the door and the four of them looked where she was looking.

There stood Vin.

Chris was at his side and was about to take a step forward but Vin put his hand out to stop him and went himself to the table. He made eye contact with each one of them and when he spoke, his voice was deadly calm.

"You know, the first time I was raped - at least it was by _strangers_."

Then he turned and left the restaurant, brushing past Chris who continued to stare at the four like he wanted to set them on fire.

"_You all be at work on Monday_." He said. Then he followed Vin out the front door.

"I can't believe you're all discussing it like this." Inez snapped. "What about confidentiality? What about friendship and compassion?"

"We're just trying to make sense of it..." JD offered, hesitantly.

"Make sense of _what_?" she demanded. "Who said it was your place to make sense of it?"

"When something as appalling as sexual assault is perpetrated upon a person of close acquaintance..." Ezra said. "I suppose it's only natural to ponder the ramifications..."

"We're just - I just don't -" JD tried to justify the conversation. "I still don't understand how he could just LET it happen..."

"Why do you think he _let_ it happen?" Nathan asked, and repeated. "There were three of them, and only one of Vin, and he's not a big guy. He couldn't help that they overpowered him."

"Yeah - but - I mean -" JD blushed an even darker red. "I mean - if a person just keeps _moving_ - you know - how are they gonna - you know - _get it in_?"

Inez sighed loudly and walked to the bar. She came back with a metal edged ruler and a tumbler. She shoved the ruler at JD.

"OK - here. You try and get the ruler in this glass. I'll move it, and you try to _get_ me."

"Inez - I don't know - I wouldn't want -"

"_Just do it!_" Inez demanded. "Say 'go'."

"Well - um - go."

Half-heartedly at first, JD tried to get the end of the ruler into the opening of the tumbler while Inez moved it up and down and side to side. After a few moments, he tried in earnest, yet Inez was easily able to avoid him.

"See what I mean?" he finally asked, giving up the task. "It can't be done."

Inez appeared to be puzzled and disappointed.

"Let me try." she said. The anger was gone, replaced with something like resignation.

"OK." JD gave her the ruler and picked up the glass.

"_Go_." Even as she said it, Inez whacked the sharp edge of the ruler down on JD's hand. He shouted in surprise and dropped the glass as a long bloody welt sprang up. He grabbed his hand and could only watch Inez shove the ruler in and out of the abandoned glass. All the while she stared into JD's eyes.

"Go ahead, defend your manhood." she goaded him. "Try and stop me. Aren't you going to do anything? Are you just going to sit there and take it? Just _let_ me do whatever I want?"

"_It's just a glass..."_ JD snarled at her. Nathan had come to his side to examine the gash.

"Is it?" Inez asked. "_Just a glass_? You'll never look at this glass the same way again. You'll never look at each other the same way."

She kept up her assault, in and out.

"I dare you JD - try and stop me. Any of you. Go ahead and try to keep me from violating you." In and out, in and out. She moved the ruler from the empty tumbler to the closest glass of water.

"Now see here -" Ezra sputtered as his beverage was violated.

"WHAT?" Inez whirled on him, brandishing the ruler. "Are you trying to stop me?" but all Ezra could do was look away. So Inez made her way around the table, bringing the ruler down into everyone's glass. "Nobody is going to try and stop me? Rain?"

When she was done, Inez held up her sopping, dripping ruler and looked at each one in turn.

"Welcome to the Zeroes," she spat at them. "Now get out - I don't care if none of you ever set foot in here again."

to be continued


	95. Chapter 95

Chris followed Vin into the parking lot, so angry that if a bus hit him right now, the bus would lose. He couldn't even comprehend how angry he was, he was so angry. Monday couldn't come soon enough - he'd have their licenses, their jobs and their heads. Anything left after that would just be smoke and ash.

He hurried to catch up with Vin, worried what that little confrontation would be doing to his state of mind. He found Vin leaning back against the hood of his truck and - of all things - laughing to himself.

"What the hell are you laughing at?"

"Honestly Chris, I have no idea. I guess it was either that or slash their tires."

"You keep laughing then, I'll start slashing."

"They're not worth it. I've been worried all this time what people would think of me, what _they_ would think of me." He gestured over his shoulder back to the restaurant. "It just occurred to me now, why should I worry what people like that think? If that's how they are, how they truly are, if that's how they react to a friend in trouble, they're not worth the spit it would take to put out the match you want to use to burn them to the ground."

"You should be angry." Chris said. "You could have their medical licenses for that."

Vin rubbed his eyes and folded his arms across his chest.

"I am angry. I guess maybe I'm tired too. Monday I may just drop a dime on 'em, anonymously mind you. I've seen one or two corners cut in the clinic and I know from working at the fast food place, nothing sets the heart racing like suits coming up the sidewalk."

"If you can get them in trouble with Travis, that'll be a sight to behold." Chris said. Vin smiled a tired smile but didn't answer. "C'mon home with me Vin and get some dinner."

"No, I think I'll head over to Josiah's. I'll fix his sink and have dinner with him. If I leave now, I'll be in time for Mass. Me n'Nettie are going for ice cream later."

"If the two of you can manage to both be at the same place at the same time."

"Yeah." Vin smiled again. "Go on home Chris, have some private time with your family for the first time in a week. I'll call you later, let you know I'm OK."

"All right."

*/*/*/*

"What do you think Chris is gonna do to us?" JD asked Ezra as the four of them were all but physically muscled out of Inez's restaurant. The little group stopped instinctively as one when they saw Chris' truck just pulling out of the parking lot, not moving again until he was out of sight.

"Imagine if you will, JD, the most horrific, blood curdling, mind-numbing, life-altering, career-ending, body-shattering, expensive catastrophe that could befall you." Ezra said.

_"Yeah...?" _

"Now imagine that whatever Chris does to you, you wish it had been _that_ instead."

"Uh oh."

"Indeed."

Four people went to three cars and found six flat tires.

"Indeed." Ezra said again.

*/*/*/*

Vin sat at Josiah's kitchen table and accepted the glass of ice water he set in front of him. The sink was fixed and the two men only waited dinner, paella, cooking in the wok on the ancient stove. Vin had told Josiah about the scene at the restaurant.

"I never wanted anybody to know what happened to me, I just figured from the get-go that nobody would understand or care or like me anymore. But I gotta say, it still hurts that that turned out to be the case."

"You realize they're scared." Josiah said.

"If they weren't scared before, they better be now. When Chris gets mad, he gets _mad_."

"I'm not talking about them being afraid of Chris. They're afraid of things that are beyond their control, things they probably aren't even aware they're afraid of."

"You mean like what happened to me?"

"Even more subtle than that. Rain thinks you should be over the emotional trauma. To me that says that she fears not always being in complete control, of herself, of her situation. Nathan thinks a person can only be overpowered by someone stronger, so he fears being physically weak. JD too. If you _'let'_ it happen, then he thinks all he has to do to be safe in this world is not _'let'_ bad things happen to him."

"What about Ezra?"

"Well, Ezra can be a bit more complicated." Josiah allowed.

"Sometimes, from things Chris says, it sounds like maybe Ezra's worried about me. But when we see each other, it's like he wishes we didn't."

"Of all of us, I think Ezra fears being vulnerable the most. How that plays into what he thinks about your attack, I'm not sure. Except that somehow showing concern for you makes him more vulnerable."

"He thinks nobody cares about him." Vin said. He wasn't sure where that sudden observation came from. "His Mom sure don't act like she cares about him. Maybe he's afraid of backing the wrong horse."

"You may be right." Josiah agreed.

Vin drank some ice water and thought about things a little while, while Josiah went to the stove and stirred the paella.

"I read this story a long time ago." Vin said after awhile. "Musta been National Geographic. These two explorers or scientists or whatever were driving across the plains in Africa and they come upon a herd of elephants crossing the road. So they stopped and waited and when the herd had crossed they started driving again.

"Suddenly this baby elephant shows up on the wrong side of the road, on the side away from the herd, and starts trumpeting that he's in trouble. The whole herd turned as one and stormed back to the road. One big old bull elephant stood there staring down the car while the ladies of the herd gathered that baby up where he belonged and marched on their way again. And that bull stood there blocking the road until the last of the herd was out of sight before he walked away himself and let the car go on."

Josiah set two plates of food on the table and took his seat.

"Which do you want to be Vin? The youngster or the old bull?"

"Both I guess." Vin said. "Depending what else is going on."

"In either case, remember - that youngster had to let his family know he was in trouble."

"Yeah."

Josiah said the Grace, and they started eating.

"My Dad - I love my Dad and I miss him and I think about him every day, but he raised me that the only thing worse than asking for help is needing help in the first place. I mean, anybody else can need help and that's OK and I should help them. But _I_ shouldn't need help. That's a hard thing to get over."

"I can imagine it is."

"Just when I think I'm comfortable with somebody, being friends with somebody, one little thing can happen and I feel like I'm taking advantage." Having said that, Vin squinted in confusion and asked,

"How'd we get here from talking about what happened in the restaurant?"

"Sometimes God writes straight with crooked lines."

"Meaning what?"

"Meaning -." Josiah shrugged. "Talk about whatever you need to talk about. Having one traumatic thing happen to you can stir up other things in your life that you need to address. We're all of us complicated people."

"Yeah."

They ate for awhile and Josiah had seconds and as he sat down again he asked,

"Do you feel that way with me Vin? That you're taking advantage of me?"

"Yeah. Sometimes, yeah. I feel that way with Chris, and Nettie, even before this week. Anybody I spend more than work time with. It's nothing you do or say, nothing you _don't_ do or say. Just sometimes, yeah. I was doing OK I guess until I all of a sudden needed so much help this past week."

"And it wouldn't do any good to tell you that that's _never_ the case, would it?"

"Nope. It's not something that can be told, it's something that needs to be felt. And I won't let myself feel it."

"But you know I'm going to tell it to you anyway, right?"

Vin sighed, a sigh of mock resignation.

"Yes, Josiah."

"Good. And I'm going to tell you one more thing - 'taking advantage' is something friends do. I'm taking advantage of your plumbing skills to get my sink fixed, I take advantage of you being at Mass in the morning so you can be my altar server. Nettie takes advantage of you to mow her lawn and fix her car. Chris takes advantage of you to watch Cowboy when they go out of town, or help him build his deck."

"I don't mind doing that." Vin protested. "I like doing that. I like helping out. That's not taking advantage, that's - that's being needed."

"_Exactly._" Josiah said.

to be continued


	96. Chapter 96

**96**

Stars hung in the high darkening sky as Vin parked his truck in the apartment parking lot and walked to the front of the building. Nettie's house was dark so he thought she must still be at Mrs. Millette's. Instead of going up to his apartment, he wandered over to her house and sat on her top step to wait for her.

He rested his elbows on his knees and put his head in his hands. Dinner with Josiah had made him feel better, but the scene at the restaurant still stung at the back of his skull. Like he told Josiah, even though he'd expected that kind of reaction from people, it hurt to have it come from his friends.

Well, who needed friends like that anyway?

Muffled footsteps across the lawn told him Nettie was there, but he didn't lift his head. He felt the stairs give slightly as she climbed up to sit next to him, then she slipped her arm around his.

"Are you okay?"

"I've decided..." he said, lifting his head finally. "That I'm gonna have ice cream every single day, from now 'til the end of summer."

"And that's a lofty goal." Nettie agreed. "But it doesn't answer my question, does it?"

"I'm okay. I'm tired. I went to Mass and had dinner at Josiah's and fixed his sink for him. I'm just tired." He didn't know why he wasn't telling her what happened at the restaurant, except that he was just too tired to get the words out.

"Too tired for ice cream?"

"Oh no, never too tired for that! 'Sides, I haven't had any yet today and I don't want to ruin my stretch 'fore I even start it."

"Well come on back in the house then and I'll dish us up some Rocky Road and real whipped cream. How does that sound?"

"Sounds wonderful, Nettie." But he couldn't summon the energy to stir off the step.

"What's wrong honey? This is more than just tired."

He couldn't answer her, he only leaned close to her and pressed his head against hers. Nettie didn't ask any more of him, she only let him rest there against her, breathing in the soft, warm air. Earlier it'd seemed like it might storm, but now the early evening was still and comforting, the way it had been when he'd sit out summer nights on the front steps with his Dad.

"I love you." He said, without thinking. He'd never said that to her before. He'd never said it to _anybody_ before.

"I love you, honey. I love you and I'll thrash anybody who dares hurt you."

That made Vin laugh, thinking of the thrashing she might be persuaded to give JD if she knew everything.

"I'm gonna hold you to that Nettie."

*/*/*/*

JD's evening got worse and worse. Casey called him from Inez's when he wasn't there to meet her. She got annoyed when he said he couldn't meet her there, then got mad when he wouldn't tell her why he couldn't meet her there. She got even madder when he couldn't tell her why he wouldn't tell her why he couldn't meet her there. She said fine, she was spending the evening with her girlfriends and slammed the phone down in his ear.

Any other time, he might've called Buck to see if he was free, but after this week, _especially_ after this night, JD was pretty sure he didn't want to be anywhere around Buck for a good long time. Buck had been pretty mad that JD told Casey about Vin; he'd be more than livid if he knew what happened at the restaurant.

Driving around feeling sorry for himself and with nowhere in particular to go, JD finally decided to go to Nettie's. Maybe he could talk to her. She'd understand. She felt pretty much the same way he did after all. He could talk to her about it. Casey wouldn't be there, for sure Vin wouldn't be there, so going to Nettie's was safe.

*/*/*/*

Vin and Nettie sat out on her top step with their ice cream. They were mostly in the dark, with the corner streetlamp and light from inside her house casting just enough glow to be useful. Vin sat with his back against the porch upright, and Nettie sat across the step from him, watching him.

They didn't talk, Vin never talked much when he was eating. He'd answer if Nettie talked to him, but he rarely started the conversation himself. She'd noticed that right from the first time she had him into her house for hot chocolate after he shoveled her sidewalk. He sat at her table and stared at his cup and all but crumbled apart the almond nut bar cookie she'd given him, and hardly said a word the whole time.

At first Nettie wondered if maybe he didn't want to be there, but she realized quick enough that he was just shy. Over the months, as their friendship grew and he began to feel more comfortable around her, he'd told her in bits and pieces, and not always in words, what his life had been like growing up, and how he was more used to being by himself and relying on himself, and felt – surprisingly to Nettie – that he didn't have much to offer in a friendship.

She'd thought they were past that, his feeling that he had to hide things from her, but she could tell now that he was holding something pretty close to his battered heart, so when he finished his ice cream and set his bowl aside, chewed some stray ice cream off his thumb and pressed the heel of his hand against his eyes, she slid across to be right next to him.

"What is it you've got weighing on you so heavy?"

She could see when he lifted his head that he didn't want to tell her. He thought about it long and hard but the boy had to know he couldn't keep anything from her.

"After I left here, I was going to Inez's for dinner. Chris showed up at my door while I was getting my coat. Me sleeping all day at your house, nobody could find me, so he came looking."

"That would explain the thunderclouds I saw before."

Vin laughed, but it was too brief.

"Anyway, we went to Inez's. I saw in the parking lot, cars for Ezra and JD, and Nathan and Rain. Maybe I shouldn't oughta gone in, but I figured I didn't have to talk to 'em, I could just sit where I didn't have to look at 'em, and Lord knows Chris can fend off nuclear radiation if he's of a mind to, so I figured it'd be okay."

"But it wasn't."

Vin shook his head before he answered.

"No. Soon as we walked in, they were talking about it, about me. About – _it_. Right there, in public. I mean, the place looked empty, but maybe it wasn't. And even if it was, does Inez know now? The other people who work there? I wish I knew what the hell they were thinking. It was like being attacked all over again. Worse even, 'cause I thought they were my friends."

Nettie put an arm around his shoulders and kissed his cheek. "Even friends can be stupid." She said. "I'm living proof."

*/*/*/*

Just when JD really thought his night couldn't get any worse, he walked into Nettie's house and found Vin standing in her front room. At first stunned with surprise, then too late not to be seen and too proud to run, JD stood in the doorway and folded his arms.

"Thanks for letting the air out of my tires."

"I didn't let the air out of your tires." Vin said. He sounded sincere, even a little confused.

"Right."

"Did you get 'em re-inflated?"

"Yeah."

"I didn't do it. If I'd done it -." Here Vin's voice turned hard. "- you wouldn't a'been able to _find_ your tires."

Before JD could admit to the truth of that, Vin went on.

"You know, if you had any questions, all you had to do was _ask_ me. Wasn't like I was gonna turn away a friend who'd let me talk about what happened."

"What about now? Can I ask you about it now?" JD asked, hopeful. He was surprised when Vin shook his head.

"Honestly JD, I think it's time you took your head out of my butt and put it back up your own where it belongs."

Just as he said that, Nettie came into the front room carrying an overfull brown paper grocery bag. She obviously saw JD but didn't say anything to him. She handed the bag to Vin.

"Here you go. This should be enough food to keep you through tomorrow. Monday I'll take you shopping."

"Thank you, Nettie." Vin said, bending down to kiss her cheek and JD felt more than a little jealous to find Vin and Nettie so close again.

Vin turned to leave and JD had to move into the room and out of the doorway to let him pass. After he was gone, JD turned to face Nettie. She set her hands on her hips and stared hard at him. After a moment she huffed in disgust and headed for the kitchen.

Just as she passed JD, she gave him a hard slap right across the back of his head.

to be continued


	97. Chapter 97

Vin walked out of Nettie's house into the dark summer night. Being back with Nettie was such an incredible relief he felt like punching the air and whooping his delight. With his arms full of groceries though, and the neighborhood full of ears, he kept his enthusiasm to himself and silently thanked God for answered prayers.

No one was around as he walked the short distance to his building and up to his apartment. When he went to slide his new key into his new deadbolt, he saw that someone had begun repairing the gouges on his doorframe with wood putty. Lou probably. He shook his head but smiled as he let himself into the apartment.

He stood for a moment, not shutting the door completely yet. He'd left a light on against the earlier evenings and he looked around, reassuring himself that he was safe and alone. Once he was sure, he shut the door and turned the locks, and set his grocery bag on the kitchen counter to empty it.

Nettie had packed cans of soup, boxes of macaroni and cheese, bread, butter, peanut butter, cheese and crackers, lemon coffee cake, and best of all, a fresh quart of milk and a squirt bottle of Hershey's chocolate syrup to go with it.

_He loved Nettie. _

When that was done, he considered what to do next. Watch TV and drink some root beer, or take a painkiller and go to bed.

Take a painkiller, take a _shower_ and go to bed. That would be the challenge. He considered going to bed without the shower, but he wanted to get it out of the way, taking the first shower in his apartment since the attack. He needed that over and done with.

His duffel bag was still near the front door and he dragged it into his bedroom to empty his clothes and put them away. Toward the bottom of the bag he found his bathrobe, fresh and clean - and clean. He didn't remember bringing it to Chris' place but it got there somehow because here it was back. Clean.

He stared at the robe for awhile, holding it in his hands. It was the last piece of clothing he'd had on before the attack. It was the first piece he'd put back on afterward. That must mean something, some greater cosmic significance. Nothing came to mind though. He just knew he wanted to take a shower and wash the hot day and the bad memories away. His back and his ribs hurt and he wanted to take his painkillers, take his shower, and get some sleep in his own bed for a change.

Slowly, Vin changed into his pajama bottoms and t-shirt and put his other clothes aside to wear again tomorrow.

After a moment's consideration, he took Chris' shirt with him and left his bathrobe crushed in the bottom of his duffel bag.

*/*/*/*

Nettie didn't throw JD out of her house, so he followed her into the kitchen and sat at the table while she grumpily made lemonade. She didn't say anything but every time she had him in her sights, she huffed an aggravated breath at him.

If it was Buck doing that, JD would be huffing back at him, but not Nettie. Three people in the world JD knew better than to poke at was Nettie, Josiah, and Chris. So Nettie huffed, and JD waited, and when the lemonade was ready she served it up like a waitress having a bad day.

He figured she knew what happened at the restaurant, and he wanted to talk to her about it, but he didn't want to take the chance that she _didn't_ know and be the one to bring it up to her. But something had been storming back and forth across his brain since he found out he knew one of Vin's attackers. He wanted to talk to somebody about it.

Nettie took her own lemonade and the chair across from JD.

"This is good lemonade." He tried.

"As good as the lemonade at Inez's?" She asked archly.

"Uhhh...ohh...um..." Caught and trapped, JD didn't know what to say. He pushed his hair back from his forehead and Nettie's demeanor changed immediately.

"What happened to your hand?"

"Oh, that?" JD looked at the deep red welt Inez had inflicted on him. "Inez was teaching me a lesson."

"What'd she use? A carving knife?"

"A straight edge ruler."

"Hmmph." Nettie's attitude changed back to annoyed. "Your _hand_ isn't where _I'd_ have used it."

JD figured maybe he deserved that. He said as much to Nettie.

"What lesson was it exactly that Inez taught you?" She asked.

"How somebody -." JD had to take a deep breath to finish the sentence. "How somebody could be attacked when they didn't want to be." He drank some more lemonade. "It coulda been me."

"About time you came to that realization."

"I don't mean _Vin_ coulda been me. I mean - I knew - I _know_ - one of the guys who attacked him. We're the same age. We lived on the same street. We used to hang out sometimes. I've been thinking that maybe there's not that much difference between me and him. Maybe he turned left when I turned right. Maybe - Nettie, if I'd turned left instead of right, I coulda been one of the ones who attacked Vin."

"And what do you think about that?" Nettie asked.

"I think I don't like myself very much right now."

*/*/*/*

Vin turned the shower water on.

Then turned it off again.

He should've put a chair under the front door knob maybe. But no, he had the deadbolt now, that was even better than a chair. Nobody could get into the apartment.

He turned the water on again.

Then turned it off again.

He should've put a chair under the bathroom door knob maybe. But no, if nobody could get into the apartment, nobody could get into the bathroom.

He turned the water on again.

Then turned it off again.

What if they didn't come in through the door? What if they came in through the -

_Through the what?_ The rational part of his mind asked. _The furnace grate?_

He laughed at himself a little for letting his imagination run on and turned the water back on.

And took the fastest shower he ever had taken in his life.

After he put his pajamas on, he opened the door just a crack and had a look around before leaving the bathroom. He was tired, the latest painkiller was kicking in, so he made a quick circuit of the front room, checking locks and turning off fans. He'd told Chris he'd call him before going to bed, so he did that too. When he got the answering machine, he left a quick message.

"Chris - it's me. I'm going to bed. I'll talk to you tomorrow."

Everything was done. He was tired, everything was done, and the only thing left was to go into his bedroom, lay down on his bed, and go to sleep.

Yep, by golly. That was all he had to do. Lay down and go to sleep.

Go to sleep.

And leave himself just about as vulnerable as a person could be.

A few minutes later, there was a chair under the front door knob, and jut for good measure, the pole fan on top of the furnace grate. _Now_ he could go to sleep.


	98. Chapter 98

The first time Chris listened to the phone message from Vin, Mary listened with him. They'd just come back from taking Cowboy for his nightly walk.

The second time Chris listened to it, Mary smiled.

The third time he listened to it, she started getting a little huffy. She sent Billy upstairs to get started taking a bath and thought she'd just have a word with her obsessive husband.

When he hit the button to listen to it a _fourth_ time though, Mary got a look at the expression on Chris' face. He wasn't listening to Vin's short message trying to find holes in it or lies or evasions. He wasn't annoyed that Vin had eluded all suggestions, hints and insistings that he stay with them a few more days at least. Chris was worried that Vin was all right and he wasn't going to take a first impression, or second or third for his reassurance.

Mary knew that Chris had three kinds of relationships in his life: family, acquaintance, and _make my day_. And the passion of the third and the diffidence of the second usually masked the deep affection of the first.

Oh, he'd deny it up and down and right and left and any which way he had to, but Mary knew - to be accepted into Chris Larabee's family was to automatically be taken into a protective boundary of "_touch mine, touch me_", whether the person was as young and vulnerable as Billy, or as big and strong as Buck. And for Chris, that sense of protectiveness was about as close to saying "I love you" as he'd ever come to anyone other than his wife, and occasionally, when he thought no one was around, to his son.

So instead of being annoyed, Mary walked up behind Chris and wrapped her arms around him.

"Something you want to tell me?" he asked, sounding amused.

"Only that I love you."

"It must be my birthday."

"Billy's going to bed soon." Mary said as Chris turned to face her. "_Let me bake you a cake._"

*/*/*/*

Vin woke up, laying on his back, with the covers pushed off and sunlight trying to see through his bedroom curtain. He was surprised that it was daylight, he was surprised that he'd slept all night long. He was surprised that he almost felt normal.

It seemed years ago that last Saturday, the last time he'd woke up in his own bed, he'd woken up in terror and agony, sure that his life was over, or that it _should_ be over even if it already wasn't. This morning, he was actually looking forward to getting up, starting his day. He'd have coffee and coffee cake for breakfast, see what was on TV, catch up on his emails. He'd fixed Josiah's sink and gone to Mass the night before so his day was clear free in front of him.

Sometimes he thought Sundays were as good as Christmas.

He eased himself out of bed and went to the bedroom door, listening out into the front room and kitchen before going in to use the bathroom then going into the kitchen to start the coffee. The apartment was hot and he laughed at himself again when he saw the pole fan where he'd left it standing over the furnace grate, and he set it back in front of the window and turned it on.

The coffee was nearly done and he had a big piece of coffee cake on a plate when the phone rang. Checking the caller ID first, he answered.

"Buck! I just lost a bet with myself. I thought for sure Chris'd be the first one to call me."

"No, I just called over there. Mary said he was still asleep. Something about having too much cake last night."

"Is there a Larabee-Lush cake I don't know about?"

"If there is, I haven't heard about it either...so, how're you doing?"

"I slept all night. So that's a good thing I guess."

"Got any plans for today?"

"Yeah - _be alive._ Anything beyond that I reckon is just extra." A thought occurred to Vin. "Um - are you calling `cause you found out something? About - about - the -."

"The `big stinkheads'?" Buck finally supplied for him. And Vin had to laugh in spite of the feelings their memory provoked in him. "No, nothing yet. I'm keeping that low profile but ongoing. I'll keep you posted."

"Just tell me before you tell Chris. I don't want my first hint to be Chris calling me to make bail for him."

"I will."

*/*/*/*

Sunday late morning, Inez still hadn't recovered her calm from the scene the night before. She was still mentally heaping abuse on the so-called `friends' of Vin who'd made such a poor display of that friendship barely fifteen hours ago. So when she walked out into the restaurant and saw Ezra in his usual booth, her mood didn't improve. She stood next to his table and glared down at him.

At first it seemed like he was trying to ignore that she was there, but that didn't work and finally he looked up at her.

_"I have nowhere else to go." _He said.

"What are you talking about?"

"I have very few friends and I seem to be alienating them all at an alarming rate. Even my mother has yet to acknowledge my most recent birthday. I don't like going to unfamiliar restaurants and there is nothing in my pantry at home that I care to eat today. If it makes things easier for you Inez..." He took a deep breath. "...we don't have to know each other anymore. I'll leave if you insist, but _I have nowhere else to go._"

Inez felt her resolve crumble. She had a soft spot for Ezra. She had a soft spot for each one of the men, in her own way and according to their personalities. Ezra played world-weary and nonchalant but she was expert enough in human nature to know he'd give anything to feel truly a part of his circle of friends. He _was_ part of it, truly and securely, but he didn't feel it or let himself believe it. If his own mother seemed to feel so little concern and affection for him, why would anyone else?

"Would you like to talk about it?" She asked, sitting across from him in the booth.

"Here? Out in the open?" He asked with a mocking tone of voice. "Surely you jest."

"I still have my ruler, Ezra. Don't make me resort to torture."

"Yes, well..." He looked down at the table. "Perhaps I behaved abhorrently yesterday, even boorishly. I truly consider Vin a very good friend, and I feel privileged to know him. Yet this - this - _incident_ evokes some rather ghastly feelings of ill will and - and -." He seemed to be struggling to choose his words. "...and the necessity of feeling a sense of superiority to his present circumstances. And yet none of that is by my own choice. By a conscious choice. It just blooms there. Like mold. And I wonder if it isn't just my psyche's way of shouting triumphantly `see, you don't belong', as though Vin submitted to his horror simply to be rid of me. There are times I'm certain my mere presence could be enough to drive a heathen to prayer. I have so little in common with Vin, why would he want anything to do with me?"

His confession came to a pause when the waitress served him his Guiness and a sandwich, and he watched until she was out of earshot again.

"My apologies, Inez. I daresay I'm not making a bit of sense. And my offer stands - I'll leave if you require. And we don't have to be acquainted with one another any longer if you don't wish."

But for an answer, Inez reached across and affectionately squeezed his hand.

"Ezra, what would I do without you? You stay and when I take my lunch break you can come back and teach me some card games, all right?"

He looked at her with something approaching disbelief until she added, "How else can I win against Buck unless you show me?" and then he smiled.

"It will be my pleasure Inez."

to be continued


	99. Chapter 99

The more Vin thought about it, about last night at the restaurant, the madder he got. Who did Nathan and Rain think they were, spilling his information all over creation? There was one or two things at the clinic they probably wouldn't want the world to know - cut corners, mild code violations, student complaints that got hushed up, so they were treading on some mighty thin ice.

Tomorrow, he thought, Monday, he'd go in there to that clinic and blast them for being so cavalier with his life. He'd let 'em have it but good. He'd get his records from them and tell them plain he didn't require their services anymore, he'd be taking his business elsewhere.

Then he decided tomorrow was too long away so he got into his truck and drove to the campus. He was too annoyed and angry to feel the trepidation he'd been thinking he'd feel driving to work by himself. Maybe he'd be scared later; right now he was too busy reciting his wrongs and cursing Nathan and Rain to notice anything else. They probably wouldn't be at the clinic, not on a Sunday. But he'd get his records from whoever was there and leave a message for the Doctors Jackson so hot it would scorch the paper it was written on.

He was surprised when he walked into the clinic to see Rain there, behind the counter. But not as surprised as Rain apparently was to see him when she looked up to see who had come in.

"Vin-." She stood up and didn't seem to know what else to say.

_"I came for my records."_ Vin growled out. He didn't move any closer to the counter.

"Your records?"

"Yeah. You know - those pages of paper where you write down what's supposed to be _private_ information?"

It looked for a second like Rain was going to say something then she changed her mind. "It'll take a few minutes." She said instead and turned to go into the room behind her where Vin could see file folders on shelves.

While he waited, Vin found the notice on the wall with contact information for the Health Department in case anybody wanted to register a complaint. And when Rain came back out he was standing there copying down the information. He made sure he held her gaze as he slipped the paper into the pocket of his shirt.

"There's a 75 cent charge per page -." Rain started and Vin cut her right off. Stepping up close enough, he pulled the paper out of her hands.

"Just _try_ and charge me for it."

"You're changing doctors then?" She asked when she'd gotten over her surprise.

Vin's only answer was an aggravated sigh. He turned, intending to walk out the door.

"Vin?"

Even angry, politeness was automatic in him, and he turned back to Rain.

"Just - I hope - if you were thinking of calling - anybody - just - I hope -." After stammering that out, Rain seemed to gain some strength again. "I hope any misunderstanding between us can be handled without bringing anyone else into the picture. Any allegation brought against me could hurt me professionally."

Vin took an overly long moment to answer, letting her wait for it.

"_So?_"

With that, he turned and left the building and the campus and drove home.

*/*/*/*

Walking back into his apartment building with his records in his hand, Vin made the conscious decision not to read them. He didn't want to see what Rain & Nathan had written about him. At best, it would only make him more depressed. At worst, it might make him want to turn around and rip their heads off.

He walked past his own front door and went down the hallway to Dr. Hyde's apartment. Really, he didn't want to go to any new doctor, any doctor at all, but he still needed the stitches taken out of his scalp, and he was down to his last few painkillers. He didn't want a doctor, but he _needed_ one. And he trusted Dr. Hyde.

Still, he stood a moment in front of Dr. Hyde's door before knocking. He trusted Dr. Hyde, but he'd trusted his friends too, hadn't he? And look how most of them had reacted. But then, he thought, maybe he _hadn't_ trusted them. Maybe, ultimately, maybe that was part of the problem. Maybe he hadn't trusted his friends and they'd lived up - or down - to his expectations of them.

He knocked and the door opened and there stood Dr. Hyde, smiling as always and cheerful.

"Vin! It's good to see you. I've been meaning to stop down but I didn't want to intrude. How are you?"

"I - I - I need a new doctor." Vin hadn't meant it to come out that way, but he was standing here about to voluntarily hand over his private misery to one more person. At this rate, he ought to just take an ad out in the News. "I hate to bother you, I know you're retired. I just - I just -."

"Come in, come in." Dr. Hyde said, stepping aside and putting a hand on Vin's shoulder to shepherd him in. He closed the door. "Now tell me, what's this all about?"

Vin looked around the room and not at Dr. Hyde. Maybe it was a mistake. Maybe he didn't really want anybody else to know. Maybe he should just go back to Nathan and Rain and their unprofessional behavior and keep the circle closed of who knew what about him. He kept his records gripped in his hands.

"Take a seat Vin, I'll bring us in some lemonade. We'll talk about this."

He laid a friendly hand on Vin's shoulder as he walked past and after he was gone into the kitchen, Vin sat down in one of the old fashioned, overstuffed chairs. The whole apartment was decorated kind of old fashioned, with curved, fringed lampshades, heavy, dark furniture, doilies, hooked rugs, and photographs everywhere. Mrs. Hyde had died apparently just a year or so ago, only a year or so after they'd moved into the apartment, and pictures of her seemed to be everywhere. It made Vin think of the few photographs he had of his parents.

"So, what's going on?" Dr. Hyde handed Vin a tall, narrow glass of lemonade and then sat on the sofa with his own. He sat on the end closest to Vin and leaned forward to hear the story.

"I need another doctor." Vin started. He gripped the glass in his hand but didn't drink.

"What happened to the doctor you had at school? Your friend, isn't he?"

"He was. He was - I overheard him and his wife, she's a doctor too, they were discussing my records out in public, using my name even, with a couple other people. Other friends of mine."

Dr. Hyde lost his friendly expression.

"You're going to report them." He said it, he didn't ask it.

"I will. I might. They know I heard 'em, they know I know who to call about it. I think I'll just let it hang over their heads awhile." Vin looked at the papers in his hand and offered them to Dr. Hyde. "I was thinking, hoping, you could look at my records for me and tell me what I might still need. If you'd maybe be willing to take me on. I know you're retired, but there's not a lot of people I trust anymore. I can come back later if you want." He added when Dr. Hyde took the papers from him.

"Of course not, stay here. I'll look at them now." He set his glass down and began to read them. Vin waited for the look, the gesture, the smallest hint that Dr. Hyde had found the incriminating notations. The sign that would tell Vin that he _knew_.

But he didn't see any sign. Dr. Hyde read the first page with no change in expression; he turned the page and read the next one, then the next one. Finally, though, his eyebrows went up and he looked at Vin.

"Vin, there's one thing I have to make _very_ clear before I agree to take over your care." He sounded serious and annoyed and Vin couldn't even think what he might be about to say, but it had to be about his attack and it couldn't be good. "I don't care _who_ died, you never, _ever_ go to a funeral in winter when you've got bronchitis."

Since Vin had been expecting some reference to his attack, it took him a few seconds to understand. Then he realized that Dr. Hyde had only been pretending to be annoyed.

"I had to go. Mrs. Potter, Gloria, she's always been real good to me. She's real nice to me. I mean, she told me too that I shouldn't have come out when I was so sick but I could see it meant a lot to her. I woulda rather got pneumonia for a month than not be there for her when her husband died."

Vin realized he was rambling, babbling almost. He was nervous, waiting and not wanting to talk about the attack. Maybe Dr. Hyde hadn't gotten to that part yet. Maybe that was the last page or something. Maybe he could leave now and take the papers with him and Dr. Hyde would never know.

But then Dr. Hyde flipped the pages closed, set them on his knee, and tapped on the top page, the first one he'd read. In a low tone, in a kind voice that Josiah might use, or even his Dad back when he was alive, Dr. Hyde said to Vin,

"So, you _were_ raped. I thought that was what happened. Why don't we talk about it?"

to be continued


	100. Chapter 100

"Why don't we talk about it?"

The horrible truth had been known for too long by too many people, yet Vin had the overwhelming urge to deny it to Dr. Hyde. He wanted to say 'I'm fine, nothing happened.' He wanted to laugh and pretend he'd brought the wrong file. He wanted to throw up. He wanted to take a shower.

"How'd you know?"

"When you came to tell me that Maria had been harassed, you were furious. You said that if you ever saw any of those boys again, you'd pull their arms off and beat them over the head with it. When they _beat_ you, you said 'it was nobody'. That's not a typical answer when a man is attacked in a non-sexual way."

"Oh." Vin didn't know what else to say and drank some lemonade.

"Your friends know?"

"Yeah. Buck - do you know Buck? He's a police detective..." Vin looked up at Dr. Hyde a moment, then back down at the glass in his hand. "He figured it out when he found the - the condoms..."

"Thank God for that. That they used condoms."

Vin only shrugged. He couldn't right now think of anything about the attack to feel thankful for.

"And Chris?" Dr. Hyde asked.

"He knows, but honestly, I don't know how. I never wanted to ask. I started to tell him, that first night I stayed with him and - I don't k now. He just said that he knew already. I didn't ask how."

"And they're supporting you. Your friends. Most of them, anyway?"

"Yeah." Vin tried to think of how to describe how Chris and Buck had been taking care of him, Buck seeming to find his way in from the edges, Chris circling the wagons and protecting from within. And all that Nettie, Josiah and Mary were doing for him. All of them just being there for him, and with him. How could he have ever thought he was all alone? "Yeah," was all he could say.

"You've been staying with Chris since it happened?"

"Yeah. Chris and Mary. I came back to my apartment yesterday, stayed there last night."

"And how was that?"

"I slept all night. I think the stress must've collapsed me. It's funny, it's like it _didn't_ happen there. I stand in the bathroom, and it's like it's not the same bathroom I was attacked. But any noise outside my front door puts me on alert."

"That's understandable." Dr. Hyde said. "In a college chemistry lab, my partner blew up a beaker. To this day, I will not use glass pots to cook in and that was forty years ago. But it's good that you can be in your apartment."

"Yeah."

Vin wondered if this was what Dr. Hyde wanted to talk about. It didn't seem like much.

"So, what's Nathan got about me in those pages there? Anything I should be worried about?"

"Well, let's see..." Dr. Hyde scanned the pages again. His eyebrows pulled together in concern. "He's got you on _how much_ Vicodin? How much do you weigh?" He flipped pages. "What's he trying to do, get you addicted? He's got you taking twice as much as you should be. That's not good."

"They always put me to sleep when I'd take 'em. I started taking just one at a time." Vin took the bottle of out of his pocket and handed it to Dr. Hyde, who read the label.

"What in the world was he thinking?" He huffed down at the pages and took a pen out of his shirt pocket to make a note.

"Nathan's been seeming to think - I don't know, almost like I should be hiding under my bed. Not going out in public. I think he thinks I should be -." But Vin couldn't think of the description.

"Catatonic?" Dr. Hyde offered. "Because that's what it seems he was going for. So yes, _one_ of these at a time." He shook the medicine bottle for emphasis and handed it back to Vin. "The muscle relaxant at least is the proper dosage."

"I only took that once or twice. I haven't - needed it - since - since I took it once or twice." Vin didn't want to talk about why he wasn't taking them anymore. And anyway, Mary hadn't given them back.

"OK, let's see what else is here...I should look at the stitches in your scalp, those might be removed today."

"OK."

"OK, so you had some anal lacerations. How are those healing?"

Vin opened his mouth, but nothing came out. _Fine_, he wanted to say _fine_, but they _weren't_ healing, at least it didn't seem so, and he wanted to find out what he could do, but he didn't want to - there had to be - couldn't they discuss it without actually mentioning it? Sure Dr. Hyde was a doctor, but did he have to use the exact medical words?

"Not - uh - it's just - there's - not a lot - but some - when - I thought - it hurts and - and then - a lot of times -."

"There's blood when you have a bowel movement? Blood and pain?"

Vin only nodded and wouldn't look at Dr. Hyde. He could feel the heat of embarrassment in his face.

"A lot of blood?"

"Depends. Not always." Vin's voice was breath. "Depends on what I ate and how - things - progress..."

"I can recommend a stool softener for you that ought to -."

Vin didn't realize he had squeezed his eyes shut tight until Dr. Hyde spoke to him.

"Vin - it's only words."

_"No it's not. It's my __**life**__." _

"Yes it is." Dr. Hyde agreed after a moment. He didn't sound angry. Vin thought maybe he'd be angry but he didn't seem to be. "I'll get a few things together later on, things that'll help you. I'll write everything down so we don't have to say it out loud. All right?"

"All right." Vin nodded, and after another moment, opened his eyes again.

"What I'm worried about most right now Vin is that you are recovering, that you have a solid support system, and that your emotional state is stable."

"I am. I do. It is. I'm getting better. At first - at first it was hell and I didn't think I'd survive. But everyday it gets a little better."

"Good." Dr. Hyde smiled, deepening the laugh lines around his eyes. "Come on then into the bathroom where there's better light and I'll have a look at the stitches in your scalp."

to be continued


	101. Chapter 101

Having the stitches taken out didn't hurt much, more pinches than pain. As Vin sat on a chair in front of Dr. Hyde's bathroom sink, he found himself considering how alike their apartments were in layout, just mirror opposites. Which led him to another thought.

"Can I ask, if it's not too personal, what's a doctor doing living _here_?"

"You think I should be living in a mansion somewhere? On a beach maybe?" Dr. Hyde sounded amused.

"Yeah, I guess. Nathan and Rain, they got a big house. In their dining room, they got a chandelier that goes up and down by remote control. I just don't see a doctor living in a little one bedroom apartment."

A few more stitches were pulled before Dr. Hyde answered.

"This is the exact apartment my wife and I moved into when we were first married. We did live in a big house later on, while the kids were growing up, with a swimming pool, a tennis court, walk-in closets, five car garage. But after Peggy was diagnosed, all that room, all that convenience, all that _life_ just didn't seem to matter. When she found out this apartment was available, we decided to move back in. I retired early and we spent a little over a year and a half here until she died. Since then, I just don't have the inclination to move anywhere else."

"I'm sorry." Vin said, sorry that he asked, sorry that she died. "Both my parents died, when I was a kid. Sometimes it feels like I been taking knocks ever since. There sure have been times I wished I didn't have to leave my apartment." Then he thought that maybe sounded insulting, like he thought Dr. Hyde was goldbricking, but he didn't know how to backtrack without making it worse. But Dr. Hyde didn't sound insulted.

"I'll tell you, it took me a long while to want to leave my apartment after I lost Peggy. And that made me glad we had moved here, all the neighbors are very supportive. Well, that's the last stitch, no signs of infection, looks well-healed. Come on back out into the living room, we'll talk some more."

At Vin's hesitation, Dr. Hyde lifted his hands in reassurance. "Don't worry. Nothing clinical."

Vin nodded and carried the chair he'd been sitting in back to the kitchen. He took his seat again in the front room and drank some more lemonade. Dr. Hyde brought the pitcher in and refilled their glasses.

"I'm sorry about your parents." He said as he resumed his own seat. "How old were you?"

"Five when I lost my Mom. Her appendix ruptured and she went septic." He hoped he was using the right words in front of Dr. Hyde. He must be, because the doctor nodded. "The doctors tried real hard but she didn't make it. My Dad, he had Addison's. He was sick with the flu and working overtime and he had a 'crisis' they said at work." Vin shrugged. "He didn't get to the hospital fast enough. I was fifteen," he added quickly, remembering that was Dr. Hyde's original question.

"My God. I'm so sorry. So you've been let down by the medical profession more than just recently."

"No, no I never thought on it that way." Vin was surprised by the remark. "People die. My parents died." He shrugged again. "I lived."

* * *

Chris called Vin's apartment. And got no answer.

"You know, ever since you moved home, you're never there." He grumbled to the answering machine. "Call me."

When he hung up, he turned to the computer in the corner of the family room and in the search engine plugged in _'penalties for breaking patient confidentiality'_. When he couldn't make heads or tails of the lists of possible entries that came back, he typed it in a different way but the result was a lot of entries talking about the confidentiality of mental health practitioners which only made him think of Stephen and how things would've turned out so much different if that dumb-ass excuse of a therapist had just -.

"Hi Dad!" Billy rushed into the room and into Chris' lap. "Guess what? Grandma and Grandpa were at church and they came home with us! They're gonna stay for lunch and then take us to dinner only they said we went to Chuckee Cheese last week so this time we gotta go where the grown ups wanna go do you wanna go to Chuckee Cheese Dad?"

"Probably not Bud. I hate to disappoint you."

_"Aaaahhhhhh phooey." _

Chris grinned at Billy's disappointment, which was short-lived when Cowboy bounded into the room with a squeaky toy and then boy and dog raced out the sliding doors to the backyard to play. Orrin came into the family room then.

"Chris, isn't it too nice a day to be stuck inside?"

"Yeah, I'm just looking up some information on the computer. Trying to look it up anyway. You know the law, right?"

"As the title _'Judge'_ would imply." Orrin agreed gravely. "What is it you're looking up?" He walked closer and peered over Chris' shoulder to the computer screen.

"_'Can I kill someone for breaking patient confidentiality_?'" He read Chris' question off the Google screen. "Something you'd like to tell me?"

Chris did a fast mental inventory of what Orrin did and did not know about what happened to Vin.

"Last Saturday I took Vin to Nathan & Rain to get patched up after those thugs beat him. Last night we went to Inez's and heard Nathan & Rain talking about it with Ezra and JD. Using Vin's name. Right out there in public. There's a lot of things I can do to them, a lot of things I'd _like_ to do to them, but I thought legal penalties might hurt them a lot worse."

"Vin isn't here?"

"No, he went home yesterday. He's feeling better, thought he'd try getting around on his own again. It was only a coincidence we went to the restaurant the same time as they did last night. They're lucky they got out of there alive, all four of them. I wanted to rip their heads off."

"Hmm..." Orrin got that thoughtful look Chris thought he must've had in the courtroom when lives were being decided. "You leave this to me." He finally said. "I may have a couple of ideas far worse than death."

to be continued


	102. Chapter 102

Nettie couldn't help seeing that Vin was not in a happy mood. He sat at her kitchen table, staring hard at the plate that waited the food she was nearly done cooking. He'd set the table at his own insistence but hadn't offered any further help and that was unusual for him. Almost any other time he came to supper at her house, he was constantly either asking what he could do or just going ahead and doing it. That boy could spot a loose floor tile or a sprung paneling nail from ten feet away. And if he saw it, he fixed it.

Not now, not that Nettie required service to pay for supper. But his attitude right now worried her.

"Honey?"

And Nettie was happy to see that Vin knew what she was asking without being told.

"I was just thinking about my parents." He told her, lifting his eyes but not his posture from his slump. "Sometimes it just up and sticks me that I'm an orphan. I mean - it's not like it's a surprise or anything. Just sometimes - it sticks."

"That'll keep happening honey, no matter how old you get."

"Why?" He rubbed his face and sighed into his hands.

"Because we're human, and to be human means we hurt."

"Hunh. Tell me what'll hurt Nathan and Rain then. Ezra and JD at least seems like they're reconsidering their opinions. Rain seems colder than a Niagara winter."

"You want me to come to work with you tomorrow?" Nettie asked. She brought the food to the table but instead of waiting for Vin to serve himself the beef stew and mashed potatoes, she ladled them out herself onto his plate. "I can put a freeze on them they'll never get out of."

"I'd love you to come to work Nettie. Gotta warn you though, right now I'm sharing an office with Chris." Vin smiled when he said it.

"Give us a common enemy besides ourselves and Chris Larabee and I will get along just fine." Nettie took her seat and served herself. "Why are you in Chris' office?"

"Our Head of Environmental Services got himself arrested so they threw that in Chris' corner. He says my being in the office with him makes it easier to get that work done. I think he just wants somebody to be there to listen to him gripe."

Nettie had to agree.

"I think you're right." Then she added, "Just remember honey, I'm an orphan too."

*/*/*/*

After dinner with Nettie and ice cream for dessert, Vin went home to find a note taped to his apartment door.

_Call me when you get home. R. Hyde._

So Vin went down to Dr. Hyde's apartment and knocked on the door. When Dr. Hyde answered, Vin held up the note.

"Seemed easier than calling." He explained.

"Either is great! Do you want to come in or I can come down to your apartment? I've got those things we were talking about."

"No, I can come in." Vin hoped it sounded like he wanted to make it easier on Dr. Hyde. Really though, he preferred to keep all potentially explicit conversation out of his own airspace.

A small brown paper bag waited on the chair Vin had sat in earlier in the day. The medical papers he'd left peeked out of a manila folder on the end table.

"Here's a new prescription for the Vicodin." Dr. Hyde brought it out of the manila folder. "_One_ at a time. And here -." He lifted the paper bag. "I didn't want to make you have to buy these yourself. There's a stool softener in there -." Vin swallowed involuntarily and Dr. Hyde noticed.

"I'm sorry. I know you don't like the words -."

"No, that's OK. It's not like you could call it 'apple dumplings' or something. It is what it is. It's OK." But Vin still felt like throwing up.

"OK." But Dr. Hyde didn't really sound like he believed him. "I also got a topical painkiller, and a container of dietary fiber. You should take a teaspoon in a glass of water three times a day. It'll also help lower your cholesterol." He added brightly which made Vin smile.

"Thanks for getting all this for me. You're right - I never would've bought it myself. At least not all at the same store at the same time." He took the bag and the prescription and asked over the lump of emotion in his throat. "How much do I owe you?"

"The promise that you will always come to me if you need anything. _Anything._"

And the lump got so big almost all Vin could do was nod.

"I promise."

*/*/*/*

Vin drove himself to Chris' house. He didn't know if they'd be home or not but he wanted to go for a drive and he needed to have a destination.

Apparently they'd just got back from somewhere themselves; Chris, Mary and Billy were just getting out of the truck when he pulled in behind them. He might've kept going but he knew there was no disguising the rattle of his truck and they'd know he'd driven by and hadn't stopped.

"Hey Vin!" Billy ran up to him first. "_GUESS WHAT?_"

"What?" Vin tried to match the enthusiasm.

"We went to dinner with Grandma and Grandpa only I wanted to go to Chukee Cheese but we couldn't on account'a we went there last time and this time we had to go where the grownups wanted t'go and we went to this really dumb place until GUESS WHAT? I got to throw peanut shells _all over_ the floor!"

"Well, that sounds like a great place to have dinner."

"Yeah! I hope we get to go there all the time! It was even better than Chukee Cheese!"

Mary greeted him next with a hug.

"Did you have dinner? C'mon inside and I'll make you something."

"Oh no. I'm fine. I had dinner with Nettie. I just came by to show y'all I'm surviving."

"_Without_ us." Mary smiled. "I've got some ice tea brewing in fridge. Come on in for that at least."

"I will."

Then he was faced with Chris, who only waited for the answer to his unasked question as Mary and Billy went inside.

"I'm fine." Vin told him. "I am. I'm tired but I'm okay."

"Good. Let's go in and have some ice tea."

"Can we stay out on the porch? I can't stay very long. I want to get to bed early so I can be ready for going to work tomorrow." And that wasn't the whole truth. "And I just need to be outside. I been inside way too long now."

"Sure, come on."

So they sat on the low top step of the porch and didn't say anything for awhile.

"I asked Dr. Hyde to take over taking care of me." Vin finally offered. "He said he'd do it. He said - a lot of things."

"_Useful_ things?" Chris asked.

"Yeah. He's nice. He did his best to make it easy for me to talk about. He took the stitches out." Vin gestured to the back of his head.

Mary brought out two glasses of ice tea and didn't say anything about them coming into the house. After she'd gone back in, Vin asked,

"So, what's a Larabee Lush Cake made out of?"

"What?"

"I was talking to Buck this morning. He said he called here but Mary said you were still sleeping 'cause you'd had too much cake last night. I was just wondering if it was a Larabee Lush Cake."

Chris blushed so dark so completely, even his ears turned red. Vin choked on his swallow of ice tea.

"Oh - whoa - sorry! Too much information! Guess I can't be snarking y'about Viagra anymore!"

But he couldn't help grinning as Chris took a grip on his glass so hard it looked like he might break it and drank most of the tea in one long swallow.

"What'll you pay me not to tell Buck?" Vin asked.

_"I'll let you live." _

"Ha. You're lucky y'caught me in a good mood, otherwise it'd be a hard sell saying which was worth more to me. Birthday parties are gonna be a whole lot more fun from now on, I can tell you that."

Chris grumbled something into his almost empty glass and shook his head.

"Thanks for making me laugh." Vin said. "I've been needing that."

Chris gave him a look, maybe checking out that he was serious. But then he smiled.

"You're welcome."

*/*/*/*

Going to bed in his apartment the second night was easier than the first night. Vin took another shower, just about as fast as the night before, but he put the pole fan in his bedroom instead of over the furnace grate. He'd gone to bed early so that daylight was only just sinking slowly out of sight.

He lay on top of his blankets, flat on his back, feeling the latest painkiller unwind the pain out of his spine. The pole fan was a blessed relief in the stagnant heat. He was almost looking forward to tomorrow at work. He might run into Ezra, JD, Nathan & Rain – euphemistically if not _actually_ - but he was equal to it. He wasn't going to waste any more time worrying about them or what they thought. The people who mattered were the people who cared. Chris, Buck, Mary, Nettie & Josiah. They cared and they were sticking by him and that was more people than he ever thought he'd have in his life.

In the fading daylight, Vin could just make out the double pictures of his parents on his nightstand. He kissed it with his fingers, closed his eyes and went to sleep.

to be continued


	103. Chapter 103

"Chris just better not try anything." Rain was saying to Nathan as they walked from the parking lot to the Medical Center the next morning. "I'm not in the mood to have my career jeopardized just because he treats Vin like a younger brother."

Nathan didn't answer. He didn't worry that Chris would do anything to threaten their jobs here – he knew Chris would want to keep them close by so he could terrorize them at will whenever he chose. He just wanted to get Chris' retribution out of the way so they could get on with work and life.

"It's been a week. Vin is over it by now." Rain continued as they entered the building and headed for the door to the clinic. Down the hall at the vending machines Nathan saw Tony, the physician's assistant who covered the clinic on weekend nights. He shouldn't have left the clinic empty, and he seemed to give them a strange look as they walked past. "It's archaic to think sexual assault victims need their identity protected." Rain continued. "This is the twenty first century. We should be past assigning shame to victims…"

She kept talking but Nathan stopped listening. They weren't in trouble because they'd revealed the name of a rape victim but because they'd discussed a patient in public.

"I think we just need to live through today and let Chris get it out of his system and we'll be all right." Nathan said as they went into the clinic and he flipped on the light in his office.

There, behind the desk, sat Judge Travis.

Nathan felt his heart jump and even Rain gasped in surprise.

"Do you know what the penalty is for divulging a patient's information in public?" Travis asked straight away. Rain started to answer and he cut her off. "Would you like to know what _my_ penalty is for divulging a patient's information?"

Silently, Nathan prayed that Rain wouldn't answer. They didn't need to be in any more trouble.

She didn't, and Judge Travis continued.

"I don't care if it's the president of the college, I don't care if it's the lowliest student in the freshman class, divulging private information is reprehensible and I do not condone it under any circumstances. We will have a judicial review of this matter, independent of any criminal or civil action the complainant may wish – _and ought_ – to bring against you."

He paused there, but since no real question had been put to them, Nathan still didn't think it was a good time or a wise idea to say anything. Fortunately, Rain didn't say anything either.

"Someone from our attorney's office will be in contact with you – " Judge Travis consulted his watch. "- within the next thirty seven minutes. I expect your full cooperation."

He stood up then and walked around the desk, stopping beside the two doctors.

"I have a spider in my office, he has a web in the corner of the window behind my desk. Do you know why I don't crush him? _Because he knows his job and he does it_." With that, he left.

He was hardly out of the office and probably not out of the Medical Center when Rain vented her pent up ire.

"_Judicial review_? For saying a name? For talking about a friend with friends? Friends I might add that already know what's going on and brought the subject up themselves. This is ridiculous." As she vented she grabbed her lab coat and headed to the back of the clinic. "I challenge any of them to show me where –."

She broke off suddenly and when she didn't start up again, Nathan followed her to find out what had taken her focus off her complaint.

There Rain stood in the hallway, facing Nathan, eyes wide with fear. Behind her, barely taller than Rain's shoulder, stood a girl with wild eyes and wilder hair, and a scalpel pressed to Rain's neck.

*/*/*/*

Vin parked in his usual spot at school and headed to Chris' office, making a detour toward the Medical Center to get his new prescription filled. He didn't want to meet up with Nathan and Rain but he wasn't going to act like he cared. If all else failed, he'd use Chris as a threat. Sometimes it was good to have friends who were more lethal than death. Even if that lethalness got aimed in his direction that morning when Chris called to see if he was going to work and Vin not-so-innocently asked what he'd had for breakfast. Maybe some cake?

It felt good to laugh and Vin laughed again as he thought about it. Maybe he'd even walk by the student union and see if the coffee shop had any slices of cake he could bring to the office. Maybe he'd even see if Amanda was working in the Medical Center today. All things considered, life wasn't too bad this morning.

The Medical Center was in view when Judge Travis hurried up to him. Something was wrong.

"Did Chris come with you?" He asked in a rush.

"Not with me, but he's here already. I saw his truck. What's going on?"

"A student is holding Rain Jackson at knifepoint. We need people in there now."

"Is anyone else in there?" Vin asked, thinking most of Amanda.

"Nathan is. Everyone else got out the back door."

Vin was off and running before he even thought about it, before Travis maybe was even done talking. He went in through the back door of the building instead of crossing the front where he might be seen through the windows. He walked as quiet as he could up the hallway and stopped when he heard the shouting. A girl's voice, demanding drugs. He could hear Nathan answering but couldn't understand what he was saying.

Taking a deep breath, Vin pulled his prescription out of his pocket and tried to casually saunter into the clinic. Lord knew he had enough experience surviving Aunt Diane's drunken tirades and druggie boyfriends. He could keep this student distracted long enough for Chris to arrive.

He found Nathan standing with his hands up, begging, practically crying, "_Let her go, let her go. I'll do whatever you want, just let her go._" He was talking to a girl so tiny Vin thought she could only weigh one hundred pounds if that. She was so tiny that Rain was pulled backwards by the hand in her hair and the scalpel at her throat.

"Who are _you_?" The girl demanded, spinning Rain with her as she turned on Vin.

"Sorry. I'm sorry." Vin put his hands out away from his body. "I was just coming to get a prescription filled. I didn't know – I didn't know anything was going on."

"They won't give me any drugs! I want drugs!"

"_Go get her some drugs_." Vin whispered to Nathan as he bent his head down to pull his old pill bottle out of his shirt pocket.

"I will! I will!" Nathan said to the girl, but he didn't move. "Don't hurt her!"

"I got some painkillers." Vin offered. He held the bottle out. "Vicodin. I'm sorry I don't got too many left, but they're good. That's what my prescription's for. If you want to wait 'til they fill my prescription you could have that."

"They won't give me any!" The girl shouted again. The scalpel was at a bad spot, pressed across Rain's windpipe. One fast move and she'd be dead before she even hit the floor.

"I will! I'll get you some!" Nathan said again, and still didn't move.

"_THEN GET HER SOME."_ Vin all but shouted at him. "You were pretty handy with giving me more'n I needed last week. Why not free up a little right now and save yourself the blood stains?"

And Nathan nodded and still didn't move. Vin sighed and tried not to grit his teeth.

"I'm sorry. If I knew where they were I'd get you some." He told the girl.

"Make them give me some!"

Vin met Rain's eyes. She was scared and trembling - _and she deserved to be_ Vin thought but not too long.

"If she lets you go, you'll get her drugs won't you?" He asked Rain. Her moment's hesitation made Vin worry she'd actually say 'no'. But she nodded.

"Y-y-yes. Yes. I will."

"You better!" The girl said. "Where are they?"

"Here – here. Back here." Rain motioned with her eyes back behind herself. "Everything is back here."

"Go get it!" The girl dropped the hand that held the scalpel and shoved Rain toward the back. Rain was shaking so bad she could hardly walk. Behind Vin, Nathan started to move and Vin turned to him to threaten in a whisper,

"_You take one step and I will kill you myself." _

"Why are you trying to help me?" The girl demanded of Vin.

"Because you're worth more than she is." Vin told her and at the moment, he meant it. If she'd only drop the scalpel or if he could get it away from her, everybody's life would go along a little bit better.

"They don't think so."

"They don't think anybody is as good as them." Out in the hallway, Vin heard Chris clearing his throat. It was a signal. "What's your name?"

"Kathy." She said, but she was clearly suspicious.

"My name's Vin. Kathy, when she brings the drugs back, what are you gonna do?"

"_Leave._ I'm gonna take 'em and _leave_." She pointed the scalpel at him. OK, wrong tack.

"Okay, no, I mean – I didn't mean anything. I just – Kathy, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to walk in on this. I'm just trying to – to –."

"To _what_?" She demanded when he couldn't think of anything to say.

"Honestly I don't know. Other than I'd like to walk out of here with my own drugs. I mean, you got a gripe with this place, you gotta get in line behind me. 'Cause you got no idea what they did to me."

Another cough from Chris, this time quite pointed, told Vin his time was up. He was about to think up some excuse, or none at all, to leave the clinic, dragging Nathan with him when Rain reappeared from the room in the back. She carried a large white plastic bottle.

"Here." She held the bottle out. Her voice and her hands shook.

"Bring it here."

"Just take it."

"_BRING IT HERE_." The girl demanded and when Rain had walked close enough she grabbed it out of her hands and rushed out of the clinic, unscrewing the lid as she ran. She'd only turned the corner when Vin heard her shriek of surprise and outrage. He heard the scalpel fall and the bottle fall, and all those pills scatter across the floor.

He looked at Rain and he looked at Nathan and then he walked out of the clinic to the hallway where Chris and JD had the girl face down on the floor with her hands secured behind her back with one of those white plastic drawtite things. Chris stood and looked at Vin.

"She's still worth more than Rain is." Vin said, and left the building.

to be continued


	104. Chapter 104

Vin was headed for Chris' office but turned when he got to the Green and went instead to the St. Michael Shrine. He was shaking now, not as bad as _Rain_ was shaking, but the shock was catching up on him. He laid down on one of the cement benches and put his feet on it, hoping to ease the ache he was suddenly feeling in his spine. When the pain went away and when the shaking went away, he'd hunt up Chris and see what he needed to do now. Give a statement probably. He still needed to get his prescription filled.

He heard footsteps coming up the sidewalk next to the shrine. Chris' footsteps, Vin would recognize them anywhere. Chris would be concerned and want to be sure Vin was all right and Vin didn't know if he could take that right now. Risking his neck just now might've been the bravest thing he'd ever done, but it was for sure the stupidest thing he'd ever done. He needed time to think about it before he talked about it. He didn't want warm fuzzy sentiment. Even from Chris.

"_WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU DOING?_" Chris demanded before Vin could sit up or even open his eyes. No warm fuzzy sentiment there. Vin wasn't in a mood to be yelled at either though so he decided to go for the fastest way of shutting Chris up.

_"Love you, too." _

Yep, the profound silence that followed that comment must've lasted nearly ten full seconds.

"What the hell were you thinking?" Chris demanded again, a little less loud, but still as pissed.

"I was thinking I wanted Rain and Nathan to owe me their lives."

"You could've been killed."

"Like that would be the worst thing that ever happened to me."

"Are you okay?" Chris asked, finally getting to the sentiment.

"Just waiting for the knife to fall out of my back." But remembering the situation he'd just put himself in, where he _might've_ walked out with a scalpel in his back, he hurried to add, "I ran in there, when Travis told me what was going on. Running's one of the things not good for my back. I'm just waiting for the pain to ease up so I can go back and see about getting my prescription filled."

"You want me to get it for you?" Chris asked and in a flash Vin handed it up to him.

"Be my guest."

Chris took it but Vin levered himself to sitting anyway.

"What's going on? What happened to the girl?"

"County Sheriff came, they're taking her in for psychiatric evaluation. Nathan is taking Rain home. She didn't look so good."

"_She'll get over it_." Vin said, more than a little sarcastically. "Who else was there? Was Amanda there?" Chris was the only person Vin would ask that question of. Only Chris wouldn't nag him about it the rest of the day.

"No, I checked. She wasn't there. She's scheduled to come in later this morning."

"Oh, okay. That's good." Vin pushed himself to his feet just as Chris said quietly,

_"Yeah, or Rain woulda had to save herself while you rescued Amanda." _

Vin stopped a breath of pain mid-inhale and stared at Chris, who met his gaze with a mocking look.

"That's what you get for bringing up cake this morning."

"_'Up'_? You sure you want to phrase it that way?" Vin asked, and Chris huffed out his annoyance.

"You want this prescription filled?"

"Nathan and Rain are gone home, I can get it myself." Vin said. "And visit with the lovely Amanda while I'm at it."

"Speaking of which..." Chris said, flicking his gaze over Vin's shoulder in a way that made Vin turn too fast, thinking Amanda was somewhere behind him.

"Well _OW_." He said, sitting back down on the bench as the pain flared in his spine. "That wasn't nice."

"I almost care." Chris said, but then he said, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean for you to hurt yourself. Is it bad? I wouldn't mind driving over the Green again if you need a ride outta here."

Vin shook his head, but he wasn't sure if he was answering the question or reacting to the churning feelings he had going on inside his head now. The pain or the shock or the realization of the danger he'd put himself in at the clinic was making him nauseous, and that, _combined_ with the pain and the shock and the realization was making him feel anxious.

"I think my knife drawer is stuck shut." He said, wondering if Chris would remember the code phrase. He must've, because he sat down next to Vin and put his hand lightly on Vin's back.

"And it's not even 10 o'clock in the morning."

"Yeah."

"You did a hell of a thing in there Vin, you know that."

"Yeah."

"And you know Nettie's gonna be plenty mad at you."

"Oh yeah, I do know that." Vin laughed. "The more she cares, the madder she gets...just like you." Chris scowled at him, but Vin pressed on. "So I guess you must care about the _whole_ _world_."

"I'd threaten you with something, but I can't think of anything right now. I've got too much paperwork to take care of once I get back to my office."

"I'll send you an email reminder later. You can threaten me at lunch time."

The look Chris shot Vin should've shattered glass, but he kept his hand on Vin's back.

"Are you OK?" he asked after a few moments.

"Yeah. I reminded myself that I still got spine. The kind that _ain't_ broken." Vin held his hand out but it was shaking so he made a fist and pulled it close to himself. "And Nathan and Rain _do_ owe me their lives. Can you spell irony?"

Chris laughed and Vin took his chance.

"I-R-O-..." He started helpfully and Chris stood up with a growl.

"I've got a board meeting I can go to and be aggravated. I don't need it from you."

Vin laughed and stood up.

"Let me have my prescription back and I'll give you a Vicodin to take before your meeting. That ought to make your day just a little more pleasant."

"Give me two and I'll pay for your prescription." Chris said as he handed it over. "Better yet, let's find a way to slip it into Mrs. Stephen's mineral water. I'd love to see her zozzled."

"'Zozzled'?" Vin had to ask. "Is that a middle-age word?"

Chris rolled his eyes and stomped out of the shrine into the sunlight.

"Well I can't snark y'about Viagra anymore." Vin said, walking to catch up with him. "So what time's your meeting?"

"Same as always - nine until hell freezes over."Chris consulted his watch. "I should be headed over there now. Even a near murder on campus won't stop those wheels from grinding on. I'll call you when we break for lunch."

"Call my cell, I might be out on work orders."

"Yeah. And the Sheriff will be contacting you for a statement." Chris turned to go to the board meeting and Vin kept heading for the clinic. "Oh – and would you have somebody look at the trees on the far side of Ketchum Hall? I thought I saw a broken branch there. Wouldn't want it to fall on anybody."

"OK, I'll ask Sam and Neb to have a look."

"All right. See you later."

With that they parted company. Vin walked to the clinic, mentally cataloging what he needed to do, and when he needed to do it. First thing maybe he should call Nettie and let her know he was all right, in case the near-murder made the news. Check the trees Chris was talking about. Check the clinic in case the girl broke in so they could repair the damage.

Vin was just putting his hand out to open the door when he realized that for the past several minutes, he hadn't been thinking about the attack at all. The past several minutes had been almost like any other day, talking with Chris, making plans. That surprised him and pleased him. The attack was fading, Nathan and Rain owed him, and Amanda was scheduled to work today.

Yep, life was looking better and better.

to be continued


	105. Chapter 105

**ONE HUNDRED FIVE**

Orrin had finished his briefing with one of the Deputy Sheriffs and was preparing to leave to get to the Board Meeting when he saw Vin walk into the building that housed the clinic. JD was in the hallway, talking with another deputy. Orrin couldn't help but notice that though the two young men looked at each other, there was no greeting and hardly any acknowledgement of each other in their glances. Both quickly looked anywhere else.

The Deputy moved toward Vin, no doubt to ask his business, but Orrin moved to stop him.

"He's here at my request." He said, wanting to talk with Vin before he was snagged to give a statement. He waved Vin in and they walked into the clinic. Before the incident at the clinic, he'd been intending to talk with Vin about the Doctors Jackson and their lack of ethics and professionalism, but now wasn't the time.

"Mr. Tanner," he began when they were out of earshot. "When I apprised you of the situation in here, it was not my intent that you throw yourself into the lion's mouth."

Vin looked surprised, then chagrined. Orrin could see the wheels turning, the thought process of trying to think of something to say. Normally when put in the spotlight, Vin would say something meant to turn the attention away from himself, something funny or obliquely sarcastic. Something that would make the other person smile or laugh and get their attention on anything but him.

But nothing came.

Finally, Vin just shrugged.

"What else could I do?"

"With no thought to your own safety." Orrin said, thinking of the beating Vin had taken for stepping in to protect the little girl in his neighborhood. The black eyes were gone, but his ribs and his spine were still fractured and healing. "Risking your neck seems to be a habit you have."

Vin shrugged and winced, no doubt in physical pain, and shook his head.

"I guess so. I do share an office with Chris."

When Orrin only looked at him and didn't answer, Vin turned his eyes to the floor and walls and anywhere else.

"Don't you got a meeting you gotta be at Judge? Chris is already heading over there. Wouldn't want 'em to start without you, would you?"

Orrin watched him a little while longer, though he knew from experience that Vin could avoid eye contact as long as humanly possible.

"Well, if Chris were to chew up one or two of our Board members while they were waiting, that would be one or two inflated egos less I'd have to deal with, now wouldn't it?"

"Well…" Vin echoed, making eye contact again now that the focus was off of him. "I know Chris could do the chewing, I'm just not convinced how many of 'em would _stay_ chewed."

"How true." Orrin had to agree. "Then I'm off to the lion's mouth myself. You're here to give your statement?"

"Besides other things I guess. Check too if there's any damage we got to repair. Not much to tell anyway. I just hope things stop falling out of the sky on me." Then he looked away again quickly; he thought he'd said too much.

Orrin started walking and Vin followed and Orrin let him have the silence. He'd be doing enough talking in a moment.

"Deputy, this is Vincent Tanner. The young man who helped diffuse this morning's incident. If you could take his statement now, he can get back to work."

"I can do that sir." The deputy answered respectfully and Orrin thought, not for the first time, that he loved the perks of having once been a judge. Before leaving, he turned once more to Vin.

"Stop by my office and see me later. There are still some things we need to talk about."

"Okay."

*/*/*/*

Were Ezra given to using crude, and therefore plebian, language, upon entering the boardroom he would've uttered a very short word, beginning with the letter "S" and referencing excrement: Chris Larabee was the only other person in the room. He was leaning against the edge of the massive table, arms crossed, eyes narrowed. And he was looking straight at Ezra.

Ezra would've turned around, but the shock seemed to have rendered him immobile.

"Mr. Larabee." He managed to say without sounding perturbed. He wondered how Chris managed to have the boardroom empty so close to the scheduled meeting time.

"Mr. Standish." Chris answered, managing to sound threatening and yet informal both at the same time. He didn't say anything else.

"I heard there was a disturbance at the clinic this morning." Perhaps if he could turn Chris' ire towards someone other than himself he could survive at least one interminable meeting without finally killing someone. He was in a foul mood and he didn't care who suffered for it.

"Somebody had a knife to Rain's throat."

"And it wasn't you?" Ezra asked before he could stop himself. But then he wondered, what could Chris truly inflict upon his person or his life that wouldn't be preferable to the migraine he could feel forming at the corner of his eye.

Chris merely raised an eyebrow at the remark.

"Vin went right into the middle of it." He said. Ezra felt his heart jump, though it was against his will.

"Is he all right?"

"Yeah. He saved Rain's life and probably Nathan's and he risked his own life to do it." Chris said sternly. Other board members finally started filing in and Chris stood up from the table. He pointed his finger at Ezra. "_You remember that."_

He turned then and took his seat on the far side of the table. The others filled up the table, Mrs. Stephens and Mr. Conklin already discussing the events at the clinic.

"There to get drugs." Mrs. Stephens proclaimed, as though it was proving her right on some point.

"And he knew her name." Mr. Conklin said as though adding a log to a fire.

Ezra was supposed to be handing out the agenda and bullet points and other detritus of official business so he scanned the table for a place to sit where he could open his briefcase and assemble the papers for distribution. There was an empty chair and then empty space on the far side of Chris and though it might be the lion's den, at least it was away from the sibilant whisperings of Damnable Duo, who continued to dissect whatever had happened at the clinic.

He sat heavily in the chair at Chris' right hand, slung his briefcase onto the table and opened it. That was as far as he could get though. He was exhausted and in a bad mood. He'd gotten no sleep all either Saturday or Sunday. His mother had called and railed at him about some trifling affront she'd suffered from a lackey at her spa, never once mentioning his birthday or even asking how he was. Then of course there was the scene at the restaurant, wounding Vin, surviving Inez's ire and then earning her forgiveness. Now Mr. Tanner had again moved – no doubt with little or no thought for himself – to save two people he certainly could've wished dead, and all Ezra felt he had accomplished this week was the sacrifice of a forest of trees to honor the gods of official protocol. He shoved the briefcase away from himself and rested his head in his hands.

After a moment or two, he heard someone rifling his briefcase and then the sound of papers being swept down the table top.

"Pass 'em out." Chris ordered someone. Then he ordered again, "Figure it out and pass 'em down."

A moment after that, a strong hand patted Ezra's back and lingered there.

"Take another pain killer Ez." Chris whispered to him. "We'll get through this."

to be continued


	106. Chapter 106

The Deputy Sheriff was young, bald, and huge. He looked like he could eat a Toyota for breakfast and spit it out again as nails. Vin sat across the table from him, in a thankfully large conference room in the clinic or he'd be having a claustrophobic panic attack. He'd given statements twice before in his life, both times for some scuffle or ruckus between Aunt Diane and one of her boyfriends that were loud enough or violent enough to make the neighbors call the police. He hadn't liked giving a statement then and he didn't like it now. At least this time he didn't have to worry about pissing off somebody who would make his life miserable because of what he said.

He gave a bare-bones telling, leaving out that Rain and Nathan had both been scared witless and that he'd been inclined to whack them both because of it. That's what you get when you live thinking the world owed you, he thought. You go around thinking you got it all over everybody else, sooner or later you got your vitals handed to you. After the initial telling, the deputy asked questions and added notes and made no comment if he thought Vin was brave or stupid.

"All right Mr. Tanner. I'll contact you when this has been typed up and is ready for your review and signature. If you remember anything else in the meantime, please contact me."

"Okay. I'm going to look over the clinic now, see if there's any damage needs to be repaired." And it was over and Vin walked out into the clinic, feeling a weight on his shoulders. If this went to trial, if he had to testify, if anybody at the trial found out about Rain and Nathan spilling his privacy at Inez's…_if – if – if. _

He ran his hand through his hair and felt the spot where the stitches weren't anymore. That spot was healed. He was healing. He would survive. He would.

"Vin!"

He turned to see Amanda walking up to him. She was reaching a hand out to him and he wanted to grab her in a hug, happy that she was okay, relieved that _he_ was okay. She even looked like she might be okay with that, with a hug, but instead, he reached for the hand she held out and gave it a fast squeeze and let go, smiling at her.

"You missed all the excitement." He told her.

"So I hear. Are you OK?"

"Yeah. It was no big deal." He said it easily, almost automatically and turned a little away, intending to ask if she'd noticed any damage the girl might've caused. But Amanda put her hand on his arm and pulled him back. He looked first down at the grip on his arm, then up into her eyes.

"Facing down an armed, spaced-out drug addict is _not_ 'no big deal', so don't even try to make me think it is."

Vin wondered what she'd think if she knew his past, the life he lived with Aunt Diane and her unending string of 'under the influence' boyfriends. He wondered why she cared at all. He looked down at her hand again and put his own over it.

"Thanks." He didn't know why he said it. He didn't mean to say it. He meant to say again that he was okay. "I think it might still be catching up with me."

She looked surprised by his answer and he wondered what she'd been expecting. He wondered how long he was going to keep wondering about her.

"Good." She said. "Good that you realize that. Now – what can I do to help?"

"Well I was gonna check to see if there was any damage here that needs to taking care of. Maybe you could check too and see if there's anything I might miss."

It wasn't until the words were out of him mouth that Vin wondered maybe she wasn't talking about 'work' help, maybe she was talking about 'help' help. Maybe she was because she said,

"Sure. And then later you'll let me buy you lunch so I can make you listen to all about my trip to Erie."

Mr. Conklin was pompous, Mrs. Stephens was shrill, Ezra seemed to be fading fast, and nothing was getting done about anything. Just as Conklin finished his most recent tirade and Mrs. Stephens started to fill the void, Chris stood up, shoving his chair back against the wall.

"Mr. Larabee, you have something to add?" Judge Travis asked.

"No. I'm going to get some _real_ work done. We all know that if James didn't come with dollar signs trailing out of his back pocket, we would've tossed his ass a year ago. We should toss him now. Nothing that gets said is going to change my mind. Consider my vote cast and call me when more of you develop a spine."

He grabbed his papers in a crumple, yanked his jacket off the back of the chair and took the first step to leave. He couldn't leave Ezra though. Lord knew he ought to not care if Ezra sat through another tortuous five hours of this bullcrap. But he did care. Only Chris was allowed to torture his friends.

"Ezra, c'mon."

Ezra looked up at him in surprise. Judge Travis looked at him in surprise. Everyone else looked at him in surprise or blatant annoyance.

"Mr. Larabee?" Ezra sounded like he could hardly remember where he was, much less why Chris was talking to him.

"While this group keeps measuring James for his coffin, let's go hunt up some nails to make sure it stays shut."

"Um – well - ." Ezra's gaze went to the head of the table, gauging Travis' response probably. Chris wasn't about to turn around because he wasn't about to seem like he needed Travis' permission. Ezra must've got it though because he grabbed his own papers and briefcase and stood up.

"You know I've heard things about you." Conklin sneered. Chris only gave him a disinterested look; it was Conklin's standard attack whether he'd heard anything or not. It must work enough on other people that he kept using it. "I wouldn't be so high and mighty if I were you."

Chris held back his thought '_If you were me my mother would've killed you at birth'_ and started walking as soon as Ezra was ready. Once they were out of the conference room and a good enough distance away, Chris let loose with the string of curses he desperately wanted to say to their faces.

"I'm sorry – are you speaking to me?" Ezra asked as they reached the door and walked outside into fresh air.

"Not just then." Chris said and observed, "You got a migraine."

"Unless there's a railroad spike sticking out of my eye socket, yes. Now, were you serious about uncovering dirt on the younger Mr. James, or did you spirit me from there for some deeper horror?"

"I didn't want your brains leaking all over the floor in there is all; I'm in charge of getting it cleaned up now. Go to the clinic or go home Ezra. I'll get somebody to drive you if you need."

"Mr. Larabee -." Ezra looked at him with the pale, pinched expression of someone in serious pain. "Why are you being solicitous of my welfare? Wouldn't you rather be handing me my head?"

"Wouldn't be much of a challenge right now Ez'. Go. Take care of yourself. Don't come back 'til you're a hundred percent."

Chris got back to his office, dropped his belongings on the floor and collapsed into his chair. Today was too short, too long, too crazy, and too tedious all at the same time. Maybe he could find out when James was going to trial; as soon as he went to jail, the Board _had_ to fire him, didn't they? Well, considering this Board and their attachment to the James' Family Fortune, they'd probably vote to keep paying him even while he was locked up.

"Be just like them." He growled in frustration. He had the sudden deep desire to destroy something. Maybe there was a dead tree out on the property somewhere he could take an ax to.

"Uh – Chris?" JD stood in the office doorway, looking a little trepidacious, and Chris considered that whacking JD might be just as satisfying as chopping down a tree.

"Yeah?"

"Um – I was talking to one of the Deputy Sheriffs that were here this morning."

"Yeah..."

"He told me a lot of stuff about Lucas James, stuff that got buried but not sealed. I checked into it, stuff I think we could use against him. Get him bounced permanently."

Chris's mood suddenly lightened immensely.

"Then let's go to the Board Meeting and get this done."

tbc


End file.
